The Red Shoes

When I walked the streets of my city, with my usual clothes, and my usual red shoes I usually hear a voice in the distances that says: “Let me take them.” Is it talking about me, about the shoes, about something I possess?

I keep walking and I keep imagining my world, with my music, my dreams and you, through the sidewalk some ants cross before me, they stare at my shoes every day, like it’s something very special, and I keep hearing the voice that wants to take something mine, am I the only one that can hear it or is it even speaking to me?

I keep walking through the city in my daydream, I see many people around me, and still hear the voice, but I don’t listen to it; the graffiti on the walls of the city makes this place different, it erases all the dull stone walls and it is like scissors cut the color and put it in the walls.

Indeed, this is a weird city, in all my years here, and I was born here, I have only seen to things in color, me in my red shoes and the graffiti on the walls, I don’t know what do they have that is so different, even people are gray, it’s such a weird city, and rarely I can hear other people’s voices, I usually see them just moving their lips, I somewhat feel alone, walking the city in gray and staying silent, luckily, my thoughts speak to me, and they are in full color.

When I don’t go out, I write letters with destiny to “someone”, someone I need, to accompany me, to be with me, to be less alone in this city, I can truly look for that, it’s my only wish; I always send those letters, but I’m afraid that they remain in the bottom of the mailbox and one day that red mailbox will be full, and no one can get my letters.

On top of all these gray walls there are graffiti, but there is one that is different, I visit it daily, it is a big heart pattern, a flowery graffiti, there are tulips growing out of the cracks in the concrete, can really nature be so noble that it even grows inside concrete?

This graffiti is different, because the flowers that bloom from within its wall, are colored, and I always want to see this graffiti, it’s a heart, it makes me feel safe, like, I’ve reached home, I don’t know why.

I walked out one day, as usual, in my red shoes, I walked through the colorless, soundless park, through the populated streets and heard the voice looking for my shoes several times, sent out one last letter to “someone” and walked to my graffiti, as I got near the alley, I noticed a strange glow and heard footsteps, I kept walking towards the alley, suddenly the footsteps stopped and I went inside the alley; when I was inside I looked down and saw a pair of red shoes, just like mine, I raised my look and noticed a beautiful blond girl, She was colored as me, and was looking at the graffiti, She grabbed a tulip and asked: why are these in color and everything else is gray? I got near her and said: now, everything is in color.

When I touched her hand, everything colored, and sound came, I have never been alone since that day, She had a small backpack that day, She asked if I knew what was all of this, She opened it, and inside were all my letters to “someone”.


  1. livinginfairyland · October 29, 2012

    Nice story. I like the idea of a grey city.

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