As the music drifted around, her thoughts quickstepped through the past. The first pink ballet shoes, painstakingly darned across the toe, the laced Highland leather shoes...Whatever happened to the swords she’d danced over so competently in childhood?
The satin high heels sashayed across the ballroom, the black barred suedes with their kitten heels swivelled through the salsa and the red flamenco shoes tapped the passionate longings of her soul.
Her feet flexed. In her heart, she danced again.“She’s gone, poor soul.” The nurse tossed a pair of old misshapen slippers into the bin. “It’s no life being bedridden.”