Priscilla and the Crimson Shoes

Priscilla never liked her shoes. Even though they were crimson. Even though they were comfortable. Even though her parents had bought them for her on her birthday. Even if the other children were jealous.

She walked along the sidewalk kicking the small pebbles. She was so busy feeling sorry for herself that she almost bumped into the lady standing on the sidewalk. She looked up with a start.

“I’m sorry, said Priscilla,” and stepped aside.

“I can see that you’re very busy thinking,” said the lady.

I’m just thinking about how much I hate these crimson shoes, she answered .

“Why I think they’re lovely,” the lady said as she walked away. Priscilla was much too busy feeling sorry for herself and kicking pebbles to notice that the woman had opened her umbrella, although it was a perfectly sunny day.

Suddenly, clouds appeared out of nowhere and it began to rain. Priscilla began to feel something strange. Her crimson shoes were now walking HER down the street. She was running. Her crimson shoes were taking her somewhere.

The shoes walked Priscilla into a building. The children there looked up at her from where they sat (in their wheelchairs). They smiled.

Her crimson shoes took Priscilla out of the clinic and began walking her home. The sun shone. On the way back, she saw the lady wave to her across the street. Priscilla smiled. And she never kicked a pebble again.