Lover or Lever With A Little Bit of Sole

It is a simple machine. Yet it has been attached to me for most of my waking hours, certainly all of my walking hours, and some of my sleeping hours for thirty three years plus change. Many changes for sure,  Yet over such a span the change can no longer be quantified. But my machine is a part of me. I am human, so It is indeed the most human machine I know.

Like humans it has brought me great joy. Like humans it has brought me great pain. Like humans with out it life may not be impossible but would not be as rich, strange, and wonderful as it is.

When my machine breaks I can effect temporary repairs with super glue, duct tape, epoxy, adhesive wraps, and other items found in big box stores. I’ve seen humans do that when necessary too. This has been imperative since every other step I have taken for the past thirty three years has relied on this basic machine.

The Lever

When my foot vanished in a pink mist so many years ago I had no idea how important the lever would be in my life. More important than the details of how I happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time to bring about my lever dependency.

So I love my lever and will leverage my way, from my weight bearing knee at the one end to the toe tip of my Seattle Foot at the other end while I roll on down the road.

Coming Attractions:

The Wheel


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