David hustled along the floor of the career fair, looking for any indication of Cooper, Kauffman, and Associates. He didn't even know what kind of company they were. A law firm? Marketing? Sales? The pen was his only lead.
Perhaps there was a directory or map of the attendees somewhere? Most likely by the front door, David reasoned. As he navigated the labyrinthine convention center, he couldn't help but stop as his toes started hurting. He felt his feet rubbing up against the inside of his shoes. His toes were being rubbed raw, as though he weren't wearing any socks.
David sat down on a bench, and undid the laces of his shoe so he could rub his aching toes. The black socks he was wearing looked strange to him. The material was much thinner than he last remembered. What's more, instead of the crew-length cut he preferred, his socks reached up halfway to his knees. One final confusing point, David only remembered ever buying black dress socks. These were looking brown, almost tan.
He put his shoes back on, shaking off the peculiarity. It must have been a packaging error, or something. His feet were feeling better already. Although, had he been more observant, he would have realized it was not the footrub that did so. The laces and tongues of his shoes were wisped away, leaving him in a pair of what appeared to be a pair of ballet flats
As David collected his things, he foundd a red handbag sitting on the bench beside him. David didn't see the purse when he sat down, but there it was now.
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