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Posted on September 30, 2013
“Shoes of Style, Tread of Grace… I grant thee Three Wishes, You must not Waste!” And there, in the dusty attic, hovering above me in the smoky filtered light, appeared what looked like a mystical kind of Genie creature. Like one of those Aladdin and the Lamp kind of Genies, with a glittery turban on his head, his arms and legs crossed… he seemed to float alongside me. It wasn’t real, I told myself. I must’ve fallen and bonked my head on something. All I had done was try on an old pair of ladies high heeled dancing shoes I’d found buried in a chest of manky, old Victorian style clothes. But what if I wasn’t dreaming? What if these shoes were magical shoes… shoes lost in time… just waiting for the next unsuspecting foot to slip inside to free the shoe genie who could give away three wishes. Well, I wanted some of that!
“Shoes of Style, Tread of Grace… I grant thee Three Wishes, You must not Waste!” The shoe genie snapped me from my thoughts. My friend Simon had gone outside for a cigarette – yuk disgusting bloody habit, I muttered… I wish he’d give it up. BAM! No sooner had I uttered the words when the Genie fizzed and sparkled, twisting around me and the shoes like a whizzing fire cracker. Oh god, what had I said? Just then I heard Simon coughing downstairs and then yelling up at me, announced he really meant it this time – he was never going to smoke again!
“Shoes of Style, Tread of Grace… I grant thee Two Wishes, You must not Waste!” Right then, I’d better think properly about this. I’d given away one precious wish on stupid Simon already. I looked down at the shoes. Such powerful shoes… old-fashioned, yet quaint and definitely a perfect fit. I wondered where they had come from and whether anyone else had found a shoe genie before.
“Shoes of Style, Tread of Grace… I grant thee Two Wishes, You must not Waste!” The shoe genies voice boomed but I noticed he had started to fade a little. Shit, I’d better get on with it. Hmm, something for me… Ok then, I wish I owned a shiny red BMW convertible, like the one I saw on the TV commercial last night. BAM! More whizzing and fizzing before I felt a set of car keys dangling from my middle finger. Woo Hoo! A quick celebratory dance from me, then I started panicking. The shoe genie had nearly disappeared. But what about my last wish?
“Shoes of Style, Tread of Grace… I grant thee One Wish, You must not Waste!” I could now barely hear him. What the hell - I wish for World Peace!!! It was all I could think of. But at least it was something good. This time a POP! And the shoe genie was gone. The shoes, however, were still on my feet so I decided I’d keep them. As I threw my bag into my lovely red Beamer, I saw two kids beating up an old man on the other side of the street. Dam it… so much for World Peace.