The window display brimmed over with festive goodies but centre place was curiously held by a pair of bright yellow, high heeled shoes. When enquiring as to why they were there the owner would simply smile and asked if the customer wished to buy them. Most declined and although a few wanted to know the size, the owner would again smile and tell them that they would be the right fit for the right person. None so far had been brave enough to find out.
It was Christmas Eve and all shops had shut long ago except The Emporium, the lights blaze with the promise of the warmth and hospitality the place had become renowned for. The owner didn’t bother asking, he knew what she had come in for, even if she didn’t. He carefully took them down and presented them to her.
“Will they fit?” she asked. He nodded as he popped them in a silk bag.
Naturally they fitted, there had never been any doubt as to that, but was not known was what would happen when she wore them. They went perfectly with her dress, complimenting the swirls of orange and peach. This was to be an office party to remember, or maybe not if she had too much to drink again. Every year she tried to pluck up the courage to make a move on, the one she considered as the man of her dreams, and every year she’d bottled it, but not this time. She had to know how he felt, how he really felt about her. Okay so there was always flirting and inuendoes, hints of what could become, but that was as far as it had gone. Tonight she would know one way or another.
As if by magic a taxi pulled up just as she reached the road, the driver was the soul of the party and didn’t even charge her the fare, saying this one was on him and rather than being too late for it to be fashionable she was right on time. It must be the magic of the shoes.
But the night was a complete disaster from them on. The guy not only showed his true colours but went out of his way to humiliate her. Turns out she had been the butt of all the jokes as everyone knew she had a crush on him and thought it funny to string her along.
She ran.
It was the shoes; she was convinced of it. They had given her too much courage, too much confidence, too much nerve and that was so not like her. She had to get rid of them.
Staggering to the garden she put a light to the firepit and carefully placing the shoes in the middle she watched the flames and smoke consume them but the next morning when the pyre had cooled the shoes stood there in pristine condition. As she stared a gentle breeze whipped playfully around her ankles like a cat, blowing the ashes into a message … Too bad to burn.
Immediately she stuffed them back in the silk bag and without thinking returned to The Emporium. As it was Christmas Day it should have been closed but the lights streamed out their welcome as usual. Slamming the door open she threw the shoes on the counter.
“Take them back!” she demanded.
The owner smiled and without question handed her a refund. Just then a young man burst in shouting the odds about an evil pair of shoes. The owner already had the cash in hand to give to him.
“This place is a total rip-off.” They both said almost together and laughed.
“Who needs magic anyway.” He said smiling at her. “Fancy a drink?” She nodded. He held the door open and as it closed behind them with a resounding clunk, they looked back the shop was no longer there.