The red shoes

I was walking idly between the racks of clothes, accessories and bags, nothing seemed interesting enough for me to buy. My original intent was to buy clothes, but the season's taste promised to disappoint and this disappointment showed on my face and body movement as I cruised the store, which seemed like it has been through a tornado or something; courtesy of the efforts of frantic ladies during the sale season.
Everything seemed mundane, boring and mass-produced, but then I saw something that caught my discouraged attention; it awoken my sense of wanting; it was a simple red shoes.

I remember watching Chocolat;there was a scene where Juliette Bnoche's daughter was fighting with her, because she wasn't like the other mothers, then she mentioned her shoes. Her mother always wore red shoes, when all the other mothers wore black ones, and people in the small french town deduced that these are satin's shoes. Ever since I saw this movie, the concept of red shoes has been at the back of my mind; the idea seemed enticing and daring; as if by buying these shoes it will make me capable of experiencing different things and allow me a taste of the extraordinary.

As if the red shoes offered a walk in a completely uknown and foreign path; coloring my perception with spectrums I have yet to discover. The red shoes was my own rabit hole, with all the promises of numerous unexpected adventures.

Just now, I remembered the wizard of Oz and the ruby shoes; maybe if I clicked my red shoes twice, my wish will be granted. Click, click.