Daily Prompt: Star crossed love of a shoe.


Star crossed love of a shoe.

It all sounds rather silly that my wardrobe, my shoes in this case, have “love”, they have feelings whatsoever. Well, I was ignorant of these sentiments until, when…I believe it was last Thursday, no, it must have been Wednesday in coat zone; Wednesday, Eastern Coat Zone (aka ECZ).  Oh yes, I was ignorant of these sentiments until ECZ when a tie that was just hanging around said, “It is his Birthday today! Not mine,” Mr. tie said, “The 30-32 White Oxford’s.”  I kinda paused in disbelief. Was my neck tie really talking to me? I didn’t even really know that I had an Oxford that size, but by this time I was so totally freaked out that I just wanted to escape the walk in. I wondered, had I fallen into a boat-load of shrooms? Had I been drugged? But, the tie spoke up again. It said, “It’s his birthday; Did you get a gift, a card or do you plan to sit in here and mope all day?” I sorta shook my head and started out of the closet; it was one of those walk in closets. In a rather halting voice, the tie said “Wait up Mr.!” And several other ties and garments grumbled. It said, “Okay, won’t you even sign this card?  And maybe, if you can part with a little of your hard earned change we can get him something decent.” I gave him a ten and he looked sorta disapprovingly, so I gave him another ten. Mr. Thai, yes, it was Mr. Thai. Well, Mr. Thai, or actually I think it was Thai. I looked on one of the label, it said, “Made in Thailand.”Apparently, Mr. Silk Thai, no Mr. Oxford, by this time my head was spinning so much that I couldn’t tell Mr. Thai for Mr. Oxford. I thought I had just fallen down through the rabbit hole or something. No rabbits. I did see a few mood rings. I never; Or rarely see mood rings. And, these kept on changing colors, mostly from purple to orangish, a light orange. The thing that got me was that this Thai tie was talking to me. Anyhow, it may have meant something? If it did, I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. But, that wasn’t really anything. I went home after work. You can bet that I hadn’t dared whispered a word of the closest affair. If I had, I’d have been laughed out of the office at the very least. The boss was on the verge of suggesting I take a little leave, make use of the vacation time I’d piled up. Spend the time that I’d been saving for Nancy and myself. I almost started to think that it would be sorta nice, going off to someplace like Cancun, maybe even Beliz. With her leave and mine combined we could get away for a fortnight, that is if our respective companies allowed. But, that is a different matter. I guess it wasn’t till Mr. Silk Thai opened my eyes that I didn’t realize that there was this whole netherworld of thinking apparel. I got home that evening, walked up the stairs, made sure nobody was around and went into my room. I went into our room, Nancy’s and mine. Nobody seemed to be at home; just me. I sort of tip toed into our room and closed the door behind me, as though it were a vault. Mr. Thai was still right there where I’d left it earlier. Actually, this wasn’t any big surprise. The surprise was that I spoke to the tie. From out of the closet I heard a muffled, “I’m in here dummy.” I grabbed the other tie, for some odd reason, and ran into the closet. I was also kind of oblivious to the fact that there were practically whole other wardrobes being operated from out of my closet. I noticed this Catholic kid’s baptism stuff. Gee, I am Protestant and so is Nancy. I laughed when I saw the, uh, what do you call them, the little skull caps that Jewish kids wear on their barmitzphas or batmizphaz, well, actually, I think they where them all the  time, I don’t mean ALL the time …the point is that I chuckled when I saw these little Jewish things in my closet. Maybe, they had just sneaked in because my daughter sometimes shares with Nancy (and vice versa). It makes her feel like a little kid again. Now, she can feel like a little Jewish kid. Neither she, nor I are the lightest bit anti-Semitic, but I don’t think I should having to start playing the dradle, whatever that is or eating dough balls. But, I can’t believe I actually spoke to a tie. I thought I was speaking to Mr. Silk Thai, who was in the closet, but I am going bonkers. That leave is looking better and better by the minute. What I am getting at is that there was this shirt, the old white oxford cloth shirt. He didn’t look near his age. I can’t really say that because I had no idea how old he was. Just the same, he was well revered and that counts for a lot. I would have guessed, oh, 83 in human years? Maybe, 7 in shirt years. Well, different shirts, different years, or so I understand. His entire life, he had been dry cleaned only and pressed. I think he word one of those black clasps, never a pin to pierce him (spoiled if you ask me). Wait a second; I am starting to think like a damned tie! Well, it could be worse? His nephew though, in a closet on the other side of town; I mean Boston, but it is just easier to say. His nephew, or rather his nephew’s friend’s grand uncle? The shoe part is what matters. This Grand Uncle, in the same closet was a pretty old-fashioned guy. No, he wasn’t just a pretty old-fashioned guy he was a very old fashioned guy. He wasn’t Jewish and he wasn’t, well I am not going to get into politics among shoes Though Juan Carlos of Spain was a known cobbler who’d done a lot of work in this very neighborhood. The grand uncle who lived in the same house as the girl, oh…I didn’t mention the girl. The girl and her betrothed, the shoes were engaged, but they couldn’t be “hitched” until, unless the Uncle gave them his blessing of time and place where they could wed, too. It was all very complicated, (or so it seemed). The kids, the shoes, just wanted to get married. After months, no decades! The grand uncle died. He was 92 and had lived a long and prosperous life. As you could imagine, there was expected to be a long wake and celebration of his life. The kids? They went out and got a new pair of shoes; They got married and lived in a shoe. The shoes were and are Polish shoes, boots. They are of Polish ancestry and Jewish heritage who fought against Nazi boots in World War II. The Polish boots and ancestors and are written and adored in texts.                  

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