Weekly Short-Short Note: 'Heart-Fluttering Toe Shoes'

When she was darning her toe shoes, the needle snapped in two with a sharp click. It wasn't the first time this had happened to her, but the sensation and the sound brought a sense of shock and loss, as if a movie screen had suddenly gone pitch black. Alone in the living room. The clock had ticked past eleven at night. A bottle of red wine with only a little left. In her hands were brand-new toe shoes with holes poked in them, and beneath the desk, her feet, etched with the marks of hardship, were stretched out. Her eyes, gazing at them, were cold. Even though the night view spreading out from the balcony was as beautiful as ever, she knew that if she focused on just one lit window, she would find herself there. Days spent devoted solely to ballet. The many pairs of toe shoes she had worn out. The self that still couldn't fly, and the new wind rushing against her back—.
Unable to sit still, she stood up and brought a box she had kept under her bed out from the bedroom. When she quietly opened the lid on the desk, having pushed the bottle aside, inside were toe shoes slightly smaller than the ones she had now. The heart-fluttering excitement of those days was gone, but she picked up a new needle from her sewing kit and, like lighting a damp match, resumed her darning.

The End (488 characters)

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