Dakota Ursa Creative Writing

Rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes, Dakota Ursa emerges from the tiny bedroom door. He adjusts his long, black tie under the pristine, white collar of his button up shirt. Straightening his black blazer over his long arms, he heads for the front door of his small, two bedroom apartment. Dakota snatches the comb lying on a small table and levels his curly, caramel hair. He swoops up his brown shoes with a flame design, tightens the white laces, and stomps them onto his feet. The brown shoes are a constant discussion in Dakota’s life.
“Why are you wearing such ugly shoes with a nice suit? Kota, you look ridiculous!” His wife, Caroline, rolls her eyes when spotting the pair.
“I don’t know… ” Dakota shrugs, “ I think they are nice and comfortable.”