10,000 Words Part 60: Feet.

Terms set by gods whose heaven is a drinking hall are seldom logical.
They let me see their feet. A parade of corns, calluses, hangnails and fungus. You would have thought divine feet to be flawless. But then, these gods made the world from a corpse: look how that turned out.
One pair was smooth, dry. Soles leathery enough to tell me this was no pampered princeling. The smell, sweet at least in comparison.
I made my choice: Njord: ill-favoured and reticent. They laughed, thinking me cheated, but a god who cares about the seldom-seen can’t make the worst husband.