They weren’t red but brand new for the past five years and she’d never worn them. Once in a while she’d pull them off the shelf and try them on. “Wish I had somewhere to wear them, somewhere to go, something.” She thought of years gone by when family lived closer together, when there were occasions, birthdays, anniversaries, events with evening dresses and high heels, dinners and dancing. “They never collected dust.” She remembered how women kicked them off when the tempo changed from slow to jitterbug as if sailing them to the corner of the room were a step.
100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups- Week #167