Sunday, September 11, 2011

Editors Flash Fiction ENTRY #10


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.”


Angelica Weatherby said...

All these entries are good. Hmm I have a few favorites but I will pick this one as my most favorite. :D

Tanja said...

This is easily my favourite. Ah, how often we misjudge people by their appearance!

J.C. Martin said...

Love how the different shoes featured throughout the different stages of life, ending with old bedroom slippers being discarded to symbolise death. What a fitting and poignant theme. Easily my favourite entry!

Mary Andrews said...

Wonderful use of imagery. Loved the story.