Tuesday, May 5, 2009

....and on the seventh day, she bought shoes.

.....she had walked many miles in her quest for shoes. Traversed the shops and malls and centres near and far and she was weary and her feet were sore. She was on the verge of giving up her hunt for the perfect shoes. As she dragged herself down one last aisle, a glimmer caught the corner of her eye. A slight twinkle and shimmer made her stop. Could this be them? She held her breathe as she took them off the display and carefully sat down to try them on. She was of an age where comfort was paramount. The toe must be rounded or squared so as not to squash her sensitive toes (ingrown toenails), the soles must be soft and spongey so as to absorb the shock (she was overweight) and there must be no buckles or bows or laces to do up (she was easily annoyed by such things). They were soft and hugged her feet gently. But was there too much glitter and glitz, and so she stood on a chair and called to her fellow shoppers "Do these shoes make me look like muttton dressed up as lamb?" And heads popped up like meerkats on the Savannah and they called "No m'lady, they're fabulous....... we love them.......they look wonderful." And then a small voice called out "Where did you get them?"
And as she pointed in the direction from whence they came........

.......a stampede ensued. Hair was pulled, eyes were scratched, small children were trampled and babies were thrown from prams in their efforts to own a pair of funky trend setting shoes such as were on her feet.

Not really.......I just asked the lady next to me the "mutton-lamb" question and she said, "Naaaah, they look ok". So I bought them.


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