Zara is awake early in the morning, the sun is rising and she is dressed up for her morning run. She puts on on her ankle-high white socks and then her running shoes, before she heads out the door.

About forty minutes had passed and Zara arrives back into her home after her run. Her body overcome with sweat, she takes a drink of water and goes to sit down. Since finishing her run she finds it increasingly harder to stand up so, losing some balance, she takes a seat in her living room.

She kicks off her shoes to investigate, revealing her feet in ankle socks, rather damp in perspiration. Her socks came off after that exposing her sweaty, yellow-tinged soles underneath. She rests her bare feet on the glass coffee table and bends over to rub them in her hands. Feeling her moist feet between her fingers, she notices they have also become quite soft after running on them for a long period of time, but nothing too unusual.

Zara can still wiggle her toes as well as arch and flex her feet. Her calf muscles moving accordingly to the position of her feet. Suddenly her feet begins to separate at the ankles, then they both drop straight onto the coffee table, completely detached. Her calves are still moving as if she's still bending and flexing her feet, Zara not aware that her feet detached from the rest for her leg until she takes them off from the coffee table and notices her ankle became a bare stump with her feet remaining still on the coffee table.

It takes her a few seconds to notice what just happened. She grabs her a foot with a hand and notices that it became very soft, it appears as if they have started to melt. Could it be the friction they had endured from running over forty minutes? She did work herself quite a bit.

Zara tries to massage her feet back into shape but it only seems to make it worse. After some time her feet has come to resemble two olive-skin colored clumps with hint of yellow. Not only are they the same color as her feet was but has the same smell.

She picks up both wads, one with each hand, and smooshes them on the sides of her face. One foot for each cheek, enjoying the extreme softness as she also squeezes them in her hands, having it slip out between her fingers. After taking them off her face, she now takes both the deformed feet and mushes it together and kneads it until they form one massive clump of dough-like matter. She drops it straight onto the coffee table and starts massaging the clump with her hands again. She pushes it against the table's glass top with her fingers.

Normally if you were to look underneath the coffee table from the other side of the glass you would see, Zara's slightly yellow soles on her olive skinned feet pressed against the glass top as she rested her feet on the table. It's not too different now, only the shape, with her detached, dough-like feet on the table top.