Of Angels and Shoes
He always told the most beautiful stories. I suppose it came from his beautiful nature. Kind, gentle. It was easy giving him my heart. A story I never told or shared – with him.
The tale one I told too late…and to a woman in a bed beside mine, in the white walls of a room made for the sick. Sick like that feeling I got…when I realized…I lost him.
- Riley Elizabeth Thompson
© of (Project: iheart) jolie alicia (Chaz/Charlie) Angela Harelson (Megan & Riley) , 2008-2009
Inspiration for story taken from this photo:
Of Angels and Shoes belongs to the following groups:
! Creative Writing & Poetry !, All Out Emotion, All Things Poetic, Artistic, Philosophical, Beginner's Expressions, Freedom In Words & Art, Freedom to Shine, Live, Love, Dream: , Short stories - Spherical Scriptings, The true beauty and Up & Coming WritersRiley’s Balcony – Paris, France
“Tell me about that shoe?”
“What shoe?”
“That shoe…over there,” Megan pointed to a shoe with leafy greens poking out of its mouth. “I assume it has a story…as most things with you do.”
Riley pushed her fingers through her multicolored hair, blue eyes following the pointed path of her friends fingertip. “Oh, that shoe…”
“I don’t see any other shoes out here on your balcony,” Megan grinned, wriggling her toes that slid beneath the table to cover hers.
Palming her chin in hand, Riley smiled and took a breath as well as a drink from her wine glass. “That shoe is a story in itself. It has told many stories carefully crafted and beautifully worded. It brought laughter, sometimes tears…but mostly laughs. It was wise and kind…and possessed a most beautiful spirit in its day.”
Megan arched a curious brow , “A shoe had all of this? Just…a shoe?”
“Mmmhmmm, it did,” she paused, gaze distant, thinking back. “Though not without sacrifice…this shoe.”
“And what kinds of stories does it tell now?” Sitting aside her own wine glass, Megan turned her gaze to the shoe again. A shoe she noted now had been carefully placed on a podium of beautifully crafted wrought iron, something black poking out the top – something familiar. “Does it play chess, too?”
Drawn from thought, Riley blinked, turning her gaze to her friend over the table, “It hasn’t spoken in years.” The chess query one she left alone.
Noting the sidestep, Megan grinned, “And what did this shoe sacrifice?”
Reaching for her glass, Riley cleared her throat, looking to her feet, “Like most things, those shoes had once been new. New when sole split from toes to form lips…and in that splitting so too did a….”
“A…” Megan drew out the singular letter expectantly, resting her elbow atop the table and leaning in towards her friend with the multicolored hair, who’s cheeks had flushed an endearing shade of pink.
“We need cheese and crackers with this wine…it’s a bit dry don’t you think?”
Popping out of her chair, Riley made a quick retreat, Megan’s laughter tailing her to the door.
“It belongs to one of them doesn’t it?”
Pausing, Riley starred sightlessly at her unmade bed, right hand pressing against the doorjamb as her left hand formed a fist over her heart, “Once Upon a Time…it did.”
“Which one?” Megan called, head tilting as concern colored her eyes, noting the change in tone, different than the one Riley had used when she talked lively of two boys in the hospital while they waited for the toxins to trickle into their bloodstream to fight the disease that had paralyzed their life. Paralyzed their life and brought them together.
Resting the side of her head against the door, she said softly, “Guess?”
Eyeing that tattooed angel wings over the expanse of Riley’s back she dropped her gaze to her glass, “The Guardian Angel.”
Riley gave no reply as she moved from the French doors through her bedroom, heading quickly to the kitchen as moisture gathered in the corners of her eyes.
The Guardian Angel. My Charlie. Who told stories through shoes, got his backside split for it, fell in love with my sister…and whom, to this day…I still foolishly miss. Charlie, who I wonder…still tells stories through the soles of new shoes.
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