"A Pair of Shoes I Have Known"

There they were, sitting on their little pedestal, designed by Charles Jordan and requiring a high price to be owned. Expensive, yes. Should I or shouldn't I?

There they were in their velvet bag inside the shoebox, sitting on my bed. A beautiful cream icicle color. I'm sure they were the best looking pair of their style. A delicate rope surrounded my ankle, a thin leather strap laid across my toes, and fine leather strips secured an open heel. They were definitely outstanding. Stylish and sexy, they commanded attention wherever we went. Irresistible.

Feeling lovely, feminine, and pretty when I wore them, they quickly became my favorite shoes. Dancing, dining, church, theatre, we made the rounds.

Then, there they were, in their velvet bag, in the shoebox sitting on the floor in my closet. A broken hip had rendered me unable to wear them anymore. It had been a while. It was a bitter sweet ending to a relationship with my favorite shoes.

There they were, in their velvet bag, in the shoebox, sitting on the counter of a resale store waiting to be tagged and displayed. On the shelf would sit an expensive pair of designer shoes, like new, waiting to be sold for a reduced price.

Together we made a great pair.

Author Notes: Since injuring my hip it has prevented me from wearing high heel shoes anymore. However, I enjoyed my time with the pair of shoes I had known.

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