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Metatarsal Prosopagnosia
by Michael C. Keith

For double the vision my eyes do see.
–– William Blake

As Mark approached the urinal, he noticed that someone was in the stall next to it. Small feet, he thought and then wondered who belonged to them. Must be a freshman, but, jeez, those are really tiny, about a five or six. When Mark was about to pee, the person in the stall flushed the toilet. His curiosity overtaking him, Mark quickly zipped up his fly and went to the sink, pretending to wash his hands. He had to see who was attached to the miniature footsies.

Mark watched in the mirror as the stall door opened. To his surprise, out walked his friend, Jared, who stood a good six-feet-two-inches. Mark’s immediate response was to look at his friend’s shoes to verify their puny dimensions. Why hadn’t he ever noticed the deformity?

“What?” asked Jared to the top of his friend’s downturned head. “Something the matter?”

“Ah . . . yeah, man. Your feet are like a kids or girls. They should be twice that size for your height.”

“What are you talking about? I wear size thirteen.”

“No way. Maybe fives.”

“Okay, what’s the joke?”

 “No joke. Look.”

 “Yeah, I got big feet. So what?”

 “Big? Jeez, you must be blind.”

“I think you’re the one who’s blind,” said Jared, waving off his friend as he left the restroom.

Man, is he ever in denial, concluded Mark, unzipping his fly on his way back to the urinal.

When he looked down at his phallus to take aim, he let out a loud gasp.

“Where’s the rest of it?”