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Old 02-20-2003, 03:52 AM   #16
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Funny, I never imagine I'd find myself here. Not now, not in this place, not with these hideous shoes on my feet.

"Cough," said the man behind me.

"Uh what?" I asked. "Did you just 'say' the word cough instead of coughing?"

"I may have said cough, but cough I did." said the man. "Who the hell are you to ask anyway? Here's my card. Call me."

I looked at the card. It was blank.

Then I looked up at the man.

He was gone.

And I was still wearing those hideous shoes.

"Those shoes are hideous," said the man.

He's back again. How did he do that?

"Magic." he laughed.

I cried. This is too fvcking wierd.

But life had always shown me weird twists. It was like I was a magnet for that kind of thing.

I looked down at my feet, hideous shoes and all, and looked back up, hoping the man had disappeared again.

He had not.

He was an odd little man for being so tall. Face all teeth and freckles and smelled of brandy wine and cellophane paper. I flipped the card over to find a small but accurate caricature of him was proudly drawn in the right hand corner.

I smelled sulfer. He was gone.

And I was on my way to the market to buy a turnip.
Swirling flakes of snow vivified this moment....trodding along....red shoes, yellow trim. Bowling shoes? No, too much support. Grim reminder of adolescent trauma in the bowling alley. With Teresa May. St. Teresa. Careful what you wish for, she used to warn. It might just.....Whoa! Nearly fell. Got to keep my mind on here and now. Gravy. I need gravy and biscuits. Why!? Have I ever even eaten gravy and biscuits?! Evil magician.

I did wear gravy once though. Late one night, after many Hershey's kisses and tequia shots. I'd rather not talk about that though. Picking my way through the snow I tried to piece it together. Ugly shoes with good support..Turnips..Biscuits n Gravy..Chocolate..Tequila What am I? A waitress in Hell's kitchen?

Click clack, click clack, down the street I go in these hideous high heels. I'm a little wobbly because the back heel is about to come off, but I think I'll make it.

"Where do you think you're going?" said the on-again-off-again man, startling me from my concentration of walking askew.

"Oh, umm, I have to buy a turnip," I said.

"A turnip? Whatever for?" he asked, smiling.

"To bring back to grandmother for dinner," I replied, digging into my pockets to pull out the money she'd given me to buy the turnip.

I wiped a goop of gravy out of my eyes. He licked it off of my fingers. I was scared.

"I happen to have a turnip," he cackled and danced. "But it's a magic turnip!"

He eyed the wad of cash in my hands. Turnips were expensive these days and I had just enough to fulfill grandmother's wishes of bathing in a tubful of turnips.

But the allure of the magic turnip was too much for me to resist. I offered myself. He declined. I offered my cousin. He declined. I offered my third born. He declined.

"Money talks." He said.

"Yes," I said, looking down at his feet. I pondered.

"But you seem to be lacking a pair of shoes as fancy as the ones I have on my feet," I lied.

"How about these BEEEOOOOOTIFUL shoes for that magic turnip huh?"

And I winked. And then I tottered on my now-beautiful shoes.

He looked at me with that kind of cocked-head bling-bling look that is all the rage

and took out what appeared to be a Slim Jim and started eating it. His mastication made me want to vomit, and he wouldn't close his mouth. As he made what could easily be described as borderline sexually- excited chomping grunts he said, "Those are some bling-bling shoes and I needs new shoes!" Then a small piece of slim Jim flew out of his mouth and hit me on my bottom lip. His eyes beamed onto my lip like a mama eagle checking on her young. My tongue instinctually slipped it into my mouth - not unlike a child eating his own booger for no other reason than because it's wrong. I wanted to spit it right back into his face and scream, but Grandma needed that magic turnip and I could only do God's Will. I swallowed it for Grandma and acted as if nothing happened. It tasted smokey flavored, salty, and not fat-free. Of course it reminded me of summer camp with uncle Lou, but I felt demoralized and cheap now. "I want new shoes, good ones to go with my new Diesels...not Eccos or Steve Maddens, I need something stylish but not ones that everybody already has. I gots to make a statement about my individuality, you dig?" he said. He pulled his black v-neck tee shirt aside from his chest revealing a tattoo. "I got this one in the can, do you know who this is....DO YOU.....DO YOU!?"
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Old 02-22-2003, 05:50 PM   #17
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"This is Marylin Monroe, and I NEED those red stillettos to perfect my dream. This turnip is more than enough to serve your needs, and I'm sure that Granny will buy you some new shoes with the money you saved from not buying a turnip."

I gasped, the greasy beef jerky film still clinging to my pallette, so this was the raspy voice I heard crooning "Happy Birthday, Mr. President" outside of my bedroom window. How long has he been following me? Does he only want the shoes, or will there always be something more, something that I don't dare, can't give...
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Old 03-01-2003, 10:41 PM   #18
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The odd part is, I don't even Marilyn having a nose ring. Seems odd, like something that would stand out. But there it was, big as day. A golden hoop with a perfect little plastic Bob's Big Boy hanging fdrom it.
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Old 03-08-2003, 06:22 PM   #19
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Against my better judgement, I reached out and flicked the miniature icon.
It spun around on its ring. "Ouch," rasped the man. "Stop that."

I giggled. I couldn't stop myself. I did it again. The icon spun. "Ouch!" His nose was pink.

He swung a punch at me. I stepped backward, unsteady on the six-inch heels, and fell, landing squarely on my arse. My right shoe flew off. "HAH!!!" shouted the ugly little man triumphantly, as he lunged for it.

I scrambled after the shoe. We reached it simultaneously. A brief struggle ensued.

Last edited by lapietra : 04-11-2003 at 06:21 PM.
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Old 03-15-2003, 03:24 AM   #20
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Against my better judgement, I reached out and flicked the little miniature icon.
It spun around on its ring. "Ouch," rasped the man. "Stop that."

I giggled. I couldn't stop myself. I did it again. The icon spun. "Ouch!" His nose was pink.

He swung a punch at me. I stepped backward, unsteady on the six-inch heels, and fell, landing squarely on my arse. My right shoe flew off. "HAH!!!" shouted the ugly little man triumphantly, as he lunged for it.

I scrambled after the shoe. We reached it simultaneously. A brief struggle ensued.

"Give me the treasure," he rasped, frantically scratching at my hands. "It's Mine!!!! My Own. My Prescious!!!!"

"That's it fvcko!!!," I yelled, and planted a killer ax kick to his collarbone, "No one steals from Tolkein!" "Kee-yap!!!!"

POW. BOOM. BANG. SHAZAM!!!!
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Old 03-18-2003, 08:50 PM   #21
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A spray of sand flew up and hit me in the face, stinging my eyes and blinding me. I reached out, arms flailing wildly, hoping against all odds to grab the shoe - my fingers whistled against air.
With a sniggering whinny of a laugh, the little man scampered away.
I cleared my watering eyes as quickly as possible, just in time to see him disappearing around a corner. "I'll have the other in no time, my pretty!" he squealed.
Scrambling up as quickly as possible, I yanked off the other shoe, stuffed it in my backpack, and took off at a mad sprint in the direction of the fiend. No way was I gonna give up that shoe.
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Old 04-11-2003, 09:00 AM   #22
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I got to the corner huffing and puffing, my skirt hiked up to get better speed, and he had vanished. The little man had vanished with my one ugly shoe.

A kid on the corner, must have been about 10, looked at me with mild amusement. He took another drag of his cigarette before pointing at the big garbage truck across the street.

I raised an eyebrow. The kid shrugged and walked off.
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Old 04-19-2003, 12:35 AM   #23
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And I fell for it. I admit it. I ran after the truck, leapt in the back and discovered nothing but the trash, as my shoe thief dissapeared in some other direction. No doubt short the chash it took to get me distracted. I sat in the garbage huging my backpack with the remaining shoe that was suddenly so precious and vowed to... but what was that? Sniffing the rotting air I looked closer and discovered a shiny gold box filled with dozens of turnips! Hidden in the trash and waiting for me, it gleamed despite the fish entrails still scattered over it. "Hallelujah" I cried, muttering a prayer to offler, and snatched the box up in my arms as I pitched myself back out onto the road.
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Old 02-18-2007, 11:56 PM   #24
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It was then that I saw the man in the distance, clutching my one red shoe.
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Old 02-23-2007, 11:16 PM   #25
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Smoking a cigarette, and smiling a smug smile. Yes, that little demon got me in a pile of rot with a shoe and a turnip for bait.

"Must I always be so gullible" I thought to myself, while clutching my other shoe and the box of gold turnips.

Rotten things squished though my toes as I stood there while truck slowed.
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Old 03-03-2007, 01:09 AM   #26
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The deep mechanical labouring of the truck sent a vibration through me and I settled a little further into the garbage. I wish it hadn't rained the night before. Then the truck was emptying another bin upon me. To my surprise the strange little man came down in it as well along with some potato peelings. "So," he said, patting the garbage bags beneath him, "isn't this cosy?"
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Old 07-06-2007, 01:50 AM   #27
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Turns out his name was Fred (yes it's a very old fashioned name, but he said his parents were odd -- which is to say, the name suited him), and he was after the same strange man who had taken off with my one red shoe -- but for very different reasons.

"It's love," he sighed and looked up at me with a hopeful expression.
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Old 07-24-2007, 07:15 PM   #28
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Funny, I never imagine I'd find myself here. Not now, not in this place, not with these hideous shoes on my feet.

"Cough," said the man behind me.

"Uh what?" I asked. "Did you just 'say' the word cough instead of coughing?"

"I may have said cough, but cough I did." said the man. "Who the hell are you to ask anyway? Here's my card. Call me."

I looked at the card. It was blank.

Then I looked up at the man.

He was gone.

And I was still wearing those hideous shoes.

"Those shoes are hideous," said the man.

He's back again. How did he do that?

"Magic." he laughed.

I cried. This is too fvcking wierd.

But life had always shown me weird twists. It was like I was a magnet for that kind of thing.

I looked down at my feet, hideous shoes and all, and looked back up, hoping the man had disappeared again.

He had not.

He was an odd little man for being so tall. Face all teeth and freckles and smelled of brandy wine and cellophane paper. I flipped the card over to find a small but accurate caricature of him was proudly drawn in the right hand corner.

I smelled sulfer. He was gone.

And I was on my way to the market to buy a turnip.
Swirling flakes of snow vivified this moment....trodding along....red shoes, yellow trim. Bowling shoes? No, too much support. Grim reminder of adolescent trauma in the bowling alley. With Teresa May. St. Teresa. Careful what you wish for, she used to warn. It might just.....Whoa! Nearly fell. Got to keep my mind on here and now. Gravy. I need gravy and biscuits. Why!? Have I ever even eaten gravy and biscuits?! Evil magician.

I did wear gravy once though. Late one night, after many Hershey's kisses and tequia shots. I'd rather not talk about that though. Picking my way through the snow I tried to piece it together. Ugly shoes with good support..Turnips..Biscuits n Gravy..Chocolate..Tequila What am I? A waitress in Hell's kitchen?

Click clack, click clack, down the street I go in these hideous high heels. I'm a little wobbly because the back heel is about to come off, but I think I'll make it.

"Where do you think you're going?" said the on-again-off-again man, startling me from my concentration of walking askew.

"Oh, umm, I have to buy a turnip," I said.

"A turnip? Whatever for?" he asked, smiling.

"To bring back to grandmother for dinner," I replied, digging into my pockets to pull out the money she'd given me to buy the turnip.

I wiped a goop of gravy out of my eyes. He licked it off of my fingers. I was scared.

"I happen to have a turnip," he cackled and danced. "But it's a magic turnip!"

He eyed the wad of cash in my hands. Turnips were expensive these days and I had just enough to fulfill grandmother's wishes of bathing in a tubful of turnips.

But the allure of the magic turnip was too much for me to resist. I offered myself. He declined. I offered my cousin. He declined. I offered my third born. He declined.

"Money talks." He said.

"Yes," I said, looking down at his feet. I pondered.

"But you seem to be lacking a pair of shoes as fancy as the ones I have on my feet," I lied.

"How about these BEEEOOOOOTIFUL shoes for that magic turnip huh?"

And I winked. And then I tottered on my now-beautiful shoes.

He looked at me with that kind of cocked-head bling-bling look that is all the rage

and took out what appeared to be a Slim Jim and started eating it. His mastication made me want to vomit, and he wouldn't close his mouth. As he made what could easily be described as borderline sexually- excited chomping grunts he said, "Those are some bling-bling shoes and I needs new shoes!" Then a small piece of slim Jim flew out of his mouth and hit me on my bottom lip. His eyes beamed onto my lip like a mama eagle checking on her young. My tongue instinctually slipped it into my mouth - not unlike a child eating his own booger for no other reason than because it's wrong. I wanted to spit it right back into his face and scream, but Grandma needed that magic turnip and I could only do God's Will. I swallowed it for Grandma and acted as if nothing happened. It tasted smokey flavored, salty, and not fat-free. Of course it reminded me of summer camp with uncle Lou, but I felt demoralized and cheap now. "I want new shoes, good ones to go with my new Diesels...not Eccos or Steve Maddens, I need something stylish but not ones that everybody already has. I gots to make a statement about my individuality, you dig?" he said. He pulled his black v-neck tee shirt aside from his chest revealing a tattoo. "I got this one in the can, do you know who this is....DO YOU.....DO YOU!?"

"This is Marylin Monroe, and I NEED those red stillettos to perfect my dream. This turnip is more than enough to serve your needs, and I'm sure that Granny will buy you some new shoes with the money you saved from not buying a turnip."

I gasped, the greasy beef jerky film still clinging to my pallette, so this was the raspy voice I heard crooning "Happy Birthday, Mr. President" outside of my bedroom window. How long has he been following me? Does he only want the shoes, or will there always be something more, something that I don't dare, can't give...

The odd part is, I don't even Marilyn having a nose ring. Seems odd, like something that would stand out. But there it was, big as day. A golden hoop with a perfect little plastic Bob's Big Boy hanging fdrom it.

Against my better judgement, I reached out and flicked the miniature icon.
It spun around on its ring. "Ouch," rasped the man. "Stop that."

I giggled. I couldn't stop myself. I did it again. The icon spun. "Ouch!" His nose was pink.

He swung a punch at me. I stepped backward, unsteady on the six-inch heels, and fell, landing squarely on my arse. My right shoe flew off. "HAH!!!" shouted the ugly little man triumphantly, as he lunged for it.

I scrambled after the shoe. We reached it simultaneously. A brief struggle ensued.

Against my better judgement, I reached out and flicked the little miniature icon.
It spun around on its ring. "Ouch," rasped the man. "Stop that."

I giggled. I couldn't stop myself. I did it again. The icon spun. "Ouch!" His nose was pink.

He swung a punch at me. I stepped backward, unsteady on the six-inch heels, and fell, landing squarely on my arse. My right shoe flew off. "HAH!!!" shouted the ugly little man triumphantly, as he lunged for it.

I scrambled after the shoe. We reached it simultaneously. A brief struggle ensued.

"Give me the treasure," he rasped, frantically scratching at my hands. "It's Mine!!!! My Own. My Prescious!!!!"

"That's it fvcko!!!," I yelled, and planted a killer ax kick to his collarbone, "No one steals from Tolkein!" "Kee-yap!!!!"

POW. BOOM. BANG. SHAZAM!!!!

A spray of sand flew up and hit me in the face, stinging my eyes and blinding me. I reached out, arms flailing wildly, hoping against all odds to grab the shoe - my fingers whistled against air.
With a sniggering whinny of a laugh, the little man scampered away.
I cleared my watering eyes as quickly as possible, just in time to see him disappearing around a corner. "I'll have the other in no time, my pretty!" he squealed.
Scrambling up as quickly as possible, I yanked off the other shoe, stuffed it in my backpack, and took off at a mad sprint in the direction of the fiend. No way was I gonna give up that shoe.

I got to the corner huffing and puffing, my skirt hiked up to get better speed, and he had vanished. The little man had vanished with my one ugly shoe.

A kid on the corner, must have been about 10, looked at me with mild amusement. He took another drag of his cigarette before pointing at the big garbage truck across the street.

I raised an eyebrow. The kid shrugged and walked off.

And I fell for it. I admit it. I ran after the truck, leapt in the back and discovered nothing but the trash, as my shoe thief dissapeared in some other direction. No doubt short the chash it took to get me distracted. I sat in the garbage huging my backpack with the remaining shoe that was suddenly so precious and vowed to... but what was that? Sniffing the rotting air I looked closer and discovered a shiny gold box filled with dozens of turnips! Hidden in the trash and waiting for me, it gleamed despite the fish entrails still scattered over it. "Hallelujah" I cried, muttering a prayer to offler, and snatched the box up in my arms as I pitched myself back out onto the road.

It was then that I saw the man in the distance, clutching my one red shoe.

Smoking a cigarette, and smiling a smug smile. Yes, that little demon got me in a pile of rot with a shoe and a turnip for bait.

"Must I always be so gullible" I thought to myself, while clutching my other shoe and the box of gold turnips.

Rotten things squished though my toes as I stood there while truck slowed.

The deep mechanical labouring of the truck sent a vibration through me and I settled a little further into the garbage. I wish it hadn't rained the night before. Then the truck was emptying another bin upon me. To my surprise the strange little man came down in it as well along with some potato peelings. "So," he said, patting the garbage bags beneath him, "isn't this cosy?"

Turns out his name was Fred (yes it's a very old fashioned name, but he said his parents were odd -- which is to say, the name suited him), and he was after the same strange man who had taken off with my one red shoe -- but for very different reasons.

"It's love," he sighed and looked up at me with a hopeful expression.

I picked a putrifying lemon rind out of his hair.

*This post has been collated for your convenience*
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