Oriana’s sneakers came off like a slow confession. She watched, helpless, as her bare soles hit the open air, naked, vulnerable, ticklish. She twisted, squirmed like a dame trying to slip out of a bad deal. But the deal was already done. The tickling danced up her arches, traced the curves of her heels, and her laugh spilled out like a tipped-over drink, fast and messy. She fought it at first, but fighting only made it worse. The tickling worked its way in, took hold, made itself at home.
Length: 10:02
Resolution: 3840×2160