Fiction inspired by Mood Shoes prompt from PROMPTUARIUM
“I can’t believe I put myself to this much torture. Look at this ridiculous six inch heels. Five years ago, I would slap myself so hard my future grandchildren can feel it in their graves if ever I considered on wearing one. Now, I’m walking around in these things that were invented to torture women, only because it made my ass looked good.”
Oh sweet love of everything holy, if just she knows what I’m going through, her six inch heels would be the last of her worry. No. No. Stop. Stop that train of thought! Oh bloody hell! A bit too late now.
“What’s your problem? Stop squirming, will you?”
“I would if I could, but I think there’s an ant inside my shoe.”
“Oh bloody take it off then. Why you are in your sneakers is beyond me. We’re in an auction, and you can’t be bothered to dress nicely? Be glad you’re a damn famous photographer, or else you’ll never get away with this crazy obsessions of yours to constantly wear sneakers.”
“But, I can’t take my shoes off.”
“Oh you sure bloody can. No one’s going to notice.”
Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. Come on, where are you when I need you? Hmm, geothermal pool, Iceland, hot cocoa. Yes! Yes! Right on!
“Did you took it off?”
“Of course not. I’m not a savage! We’re in a public place, Priscilla,” I deliberately call her given name knowing well enough she hates it with every fibre in her body.
“Don’t you bloody call me that in public! People can hear you! Hell with freezes over before these lot knew my name used to be Priscilla! Why are you smirking about? Cut it out, it’s creepy!”
It’s one of the perks of still being friends with this person; years of fierce competition between the two of us and we are still tight as ever. Knowing that I am the only person in our line of work who knows her birth name as Priscilla, before she legally change it to Paige, is just marvellous. I love riling her up like this. I feel like I’m floating on ai…r…. Oh no! No! No! I take that back.
“What in fresh hell are you on?? Put your feet down! Are you on something?”
Bloody hell! Calming thoughts! Calming thoughts, where are thou? Okay okay, green fields, butterflies. Damn it! What constitutes as calming? Ah! Tea! Milk tea! With biscuits! Yes yes! Oh I swear to God and everything holy, I have got to stop thinking erratically!
“You have got to take this thing off of me. And I mean, right now!”
“Why? The shoes not to your liking?”
“The shoes not to my liking? Are you kidding me? The shoes not to my liking is the least of my concern. The bloody shoes can’t be taken off of me!!”
“But you said yourself when you bought it that you love it so much you wished you can’t take the shoes off.”
“People don’t take what other people said literally! Not in this time of age, at least!!”
What the hell am I going to do now? I am royally screwed!
“Daphne? What are you doing here?”
“Oh, hey Pris. I’m just here for a refund.”
“Oh so am I. Brant, I need a refund for this,” Priscilla was pointing to the heels that looks suspiciously like the blasted six inch heels she wore last night, the one that she can’t stop complaining about but insist on wearing it because it made her bum looks nice.
“Hey, isn’t that the heels that you had last night?”
“Err, no, it just sort of looked like that. You know I love heels so I have plenty of those.”
“Nuh uh. That’s the same thing! No! No! Please don’t tell me you can’t bloody took the shoes off?”
“What? Pfft! Are you on something? Of course I can bloody take it off.”
“Take it off then.”
“Brant! Bloody take it back!”
Brant, with his ever so professional but slightly infuriating smile, just sighed and swept his hair sideways before he said, “I can’t. I told you when you bought the shoes the first time. You said you wished you don’t have to take the shoes off, because how good you look in those. I asked, are you sure, and I quote, of course I bloody am sure. So, really, there’s nothing I can do. You are practically attached to the shoes, much like your friend here with her sneakers.”
“Daphne! You too? Wait! Is that why you insist on not taking the shoes off even though you had an ant in there? It’s because you can’t take it off?”
“Oh it gets worse! The blasted shoes corresponds with my mood! If I’m agitated, I would feel prickles on soles, like ants biting your feet. If I’m too happy, I might feel like I’m about to float, I guess I could if I don’t control the mood quickly. If I’m worried or depressed, the blasted shoes turned so heavy it feels like lead. I can’t bloody well walking around with a pair of moody shoes!”
Great! I’m literally jogging in a freaking shoe shop because I’m furious and now I feel like my feet are on fire like I’m about to go on a sprint! No. No. Calm thoughts! Calm thoughts!!! Damn it! Give me some calm thoughts! Rain! Fog! Crackling fire! Okay, okay I’m calm. I’m calming down.
“Join the club, Daphne! So are these heels! But, instead of floating or stuffs, these heels made me dance!! Dance, Daphne! Dance!! Bloody dancing is what these heels are doing to me! Tap dance, tango, hip hop, Cha Cha, Salsa! You name it, and I dance it! Problem is, I haven’t got a clue which mood corresponds to which dance! I’m a bloody photographer working with daft models on a daily basis! I can’t bloody well go into a dance routine while I’m directing the bloody daft models how to pose! Oh not again!!!!”
Right in front of me, in the middle of her rant, Priscilla starts doing what I think is called interpretive dance. This is too funny! Priscilla in her brown pencil skirt moving around the shop interpreting God knows what with furious eyes. Oh crap! No no no no! I can’t stop laughing, a huge wave of tickles are streaming down my soles! Crap! Royal crap! Calming thoughts! Calming thoughts! Okay. Okay. I’m safe!
“Pris, think calming thoughts! Think calming thoughts!”
“How the bloody hell can I think of calming thoughts! I’m doing interpretive dance for God sake!”
“Well, think of anything apart from what triggers your interpretive dance! I’m guessing your rants trigger it. So stop thinking about it!”
“Brant! You had better do something about these shoes, or so help me God, I will kill you in your sleep!”
“I can’t. It’s what it is. I told you the shoes correspond to your first wish when you first wear it.”
“Well you had better come up with something now!”
“Well, I can always cut off your feet…?”
Jakarta, 25 November 2016