6/7/2023 0 Comments The red shoes fairy tale![]() ![]() She was so pleased to give you this gift that you acted pleased too. She was now sitting at the little white vanity table she bought you last Christmas, the one with the three-way mirror. You saw Mother had moved away from your bed. “Envied her?” you repeated, opening your eyes. “The one about the beautiful maiden,” you said. ![]() How you were staring at her like a little psychopath. Beginning to get impatient with you, your dreaminess. ![]() ![]() Two teetering steps and you were on the floor, weren’t you? You tried those on too, but it never went well. Satin, heeled, with puffs of red feathers on the toes-your favorites. She had a pair of red shoes that matched. Sometimes you tried it on when she wasn’t home, breathing in her violets and smoke. She was wearing the red silk robe, the one you loved best. “Well, Belle?” And she smiled at you just like the dolls, remember? Positioned them in every corner, every nook, so no matter where you looked, you saw their glossy hair, their fair skin, those lips of red that were always sort of smiling at you. It was Mother who’d bought you those dolls. Like the dolls that lined the walls of your room. She was fair, slim, and smooth, remember? Like something out of a fairy tale. French for “beautiful.” It’s what she called you, even though you were a beastly little thing. ![]()
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