Red Shoes

“Don’t think—just listen.”

Those were the words that ran through my head as I turned the corner inside the small bright shoe store … just a little ahead of my trick. His name was appropriately called “John,” and he was obviously not going to let me out of his sight. I was there to pick out a pair of dancing shoes—his gift. He noticed that I wore only one pair night after night, and so he made this magnanimous offer—eyes gleaming.

“I wear a size 8, where are the sizes … here they are … oh these are nice!” (the routine).

“Why don’t you pick up several pairs,” asks John dear.

“Oh no, that would be too much. I just need one pair—I want something elegant—a little flashy even—like these.”

I picked up a pair of red high heeled shoes and ran my hands along their smooth surface. I could smell the new leather—high arch, long heel line, elegant tip—sleek. Like me.