The other shoe, much like the first shoe, was roughly the shape of a foot. One of those nicely shaped, albeit oddly hollow, foots with a freakishly tall heel.
And much like the first shoe, the other shoe had a bright red sole – a statement saying “I cost more than any shoe should ever realistically cost, but all the guilt and shame you feel for spending that much money on me will vanish when you see the jealous looks of women and the adoring looks of men.”
It was a beautiful shoe. Gorgeous. Just like its twin.
But alas, it was an evil shoe. In all its divine beauty, even with that scarlet glimpse of heaven with each step, it was vicious, destroying everything it loved, pinching, squeezing. Agony. Torture.
It couldn’t stay.
It was a thing of immense beauty. An enticingly resplendent vision in black.
But it had to go.
I still dream about them, and weep for them from time to time.
We had a good run, the first shoe and the other shoe and I.
This incredibly uninspired post is part of Nicky and Mike’s 30 Minus 2 Days of Writing challenge. Today’s prompt is The other shoe. Go check out We Work For Cheese for a list of the other participants. *