No More Clicking

There comes a time, in the life of every shoe, when it must be tossed aside like … an old shoe. When they’re scuffed and torn, and bits are falling off, it’s no time to be sentimental: into the trash they go.

The red bredges – I called them that because they were a charming mix of brogue and wedge – were so comfortable to wear, so jaunty with their little tasselled bows. They carried me through summers and winters, for more than two years. It is a shame to let them go, but I am ruthless.

I have composed a little ditty in their honour:

The ruby red bredges served me well,
but now they are old and worn,
their little tassel ties broken and torn,
never again trip lightly home to where I dwell
it’s long past time to bid them farewell.

I was going to end the last rhyme with ‘smell’, but that seemed a harsh reward for their service, especially since they didn’t! Poor little things – they look so forlorn. I’ll never click my heels in these little ruby slippers again, how sad.

Hmm … time to go shopping!