…and on coming to myself the garden had vanished, and I found that I was — well, it took me a long time to make out what I was, but I at length discovered — that I was a pair of high-heeled boots, and that I had on the top of me a pair of feet — red-hot, perspiring feet that chafed my skin, squashed me in all my most tender parts, and dragged me with them over sharp, jagged stones, hot asphalt pavements — the smell of which made me retch and vomit — dusty roads that blinded me, and tarry roads that stuck together my lips and eyelids. The torments of purgatory are not to be compared with those I was now compelled to undergo. Whenever I endeavoured to halt, the toe-nails stabbed me in the stomach, the ankle bones prodded my ribs, and the heels came down…