‘Slip’per Tales

Some people have a good grasp while others are banana
fingers. In their hands, objects slip like sand. You would often find them awkwardly
grinning, a broken glass at their feet.

But I had always been different. I was Miss Banana Feet (nope it’s not remotely related to the disease). And
that’s where all my Tooti-Chappal Syndrome begins. You see, my feet repel
footwear. I am pretty sure it’s not because of my smelly toes. No matter what I
wear, they just slip out. One moment I would be walking in heels, striding with
confidence and in another moment .. bam!! … one of the slippers would be
staring at me from a distance while I would be standing still, with a bare foot…
confused and embarrassed. Then I do a whole langdi-tang to get back my slipper
and run as fast as possible, hiding my face.

Now Now, I don’t blame fate anymore. Not after that fateful
summer morning. I was hurriedly walking, trying to cross the road. By the time
I reached the other side, as usual, one of my kitten-heel ballerina was gone. I
looked back, trying to find a lone slipper in the milling crowd.

“Looking for something!!”

And there he was, impeccably dressed in dark suit with
matching checked tie, a book in one hand and my damned shoe in another. Yeah
Cinderella beat that!!!


“I don’t believe it, I just don’t. Of all the things, she
got THAT gene from you.” He said in a surprised tone. I had to stifle a laugh.

Our little Ria was hopping on the cemented pathway.

 “Daddyyyy!! can you
get that for me please!!
”, she said, sheepishly  grinning ear to ear,  pointing to the orange footwear lying on the
white sidewalk, that had slipped from her feet.

Of course, Sweetheart”.

(Photo – Prompt)

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