Tuesday, September 30, 2008

When the Red Shoes Lost Their Color

It doesn't matter that she hadn't walked in months after she decided somewhere deep inside never to stand on her own two feet. We kept all her shoes.

Because maybe one day, after all the massages and all the physical therapy and all the coaxing, a breeze might, through the window cracked open just a tiny bit, dance around her and remind her of the wonderfulness outside. And maybe just maybe she'd want to put on her shoes again and return to her own two feet.

Florence used to say denial wasn't to be sniffed at.

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