Posted Sat Feb 20, 2016 | 252 Words | Tagged story skinhead

The boots attracted Dale from the moment he saw them. They were used, as everything was that he browsed on eBay and the guy in the photos looked pretty hot with them on. He wasn’t too sure about the whole skinhead thing, but he loved the boots at the very least and managed to get them at a bargain price.

They arrived quite quickly, and wow when he opened the package the stink of the previous owner assaulted him immediately. It wasn’t bad, but just slightly unexpected.

He slowly put them on, feeling all of the boot up his legs. It was strange, they fit snugly on his feet as thought they were always meant to. He didn’t even check the size. Walking over to his laptop, he was surprised they even fit. They were 4 sizes too big for his feet. But.. they were snug?

He put his hands to his head. He was wearing gloves. Something wasn’t right? He brushed his hands over his short hair. This wasn’t feeling right at all.

Something sprung to mind. Skinhead. Just the word. Then what it looks like. He looked into the mirror. He saw a skinhead in the mirror.

With his bomber jacket, fred perry polo and combat pants. Yeah, skinhead sounded fucking right didn’t it? What was he even doing? He rubbed his hands against his head, trying to think through the thick fog in his head.

Mates? Yeah he was going to meet up with his gang of skinhead mates.