Lilly and the Shoes

One day Lilly woke to find she had no shoes. No one had shoes, not her Ma or her Da, or Mrs. Philopatyr the old lady who lived in the house attached to one side of their brownstone townhouse who was standing outside in tall grass where the street should be. The tall-grass street was busy with people walking to and fro, and not one of them had on shoes either.

No one seemed to thing anything of it. Her Da, who helped get her ready for school, didn’t say, “Don’t forget to put on your shoes!” as they walked down the porch steps together. Lilly wasn’t sure if she should say anything since everyone was barefoot, so she didn’t talk about it.

When Da dropped her off at school, Lilly joined the rest of the barefooted children on the playground, and the barefooted children in her third grade classroom. Lilly peeked under the desk to see if her teacher, Ms Watson, also had no shoes. “Sit up straight, Lilly!” said Ms Watson.

For the rest of the day, Lilly saw a barefoot principal, a barefoot lunch lady, a barefoot policeman, and a barefoot priest who was walking with a barefoot nun, although Lilly couldn’t see the nun’s feet, so she wasn’t sure if she was actually barefoot or not.

At the end of the day, when Ma tucked her in to bed and asked her how her day was, Lilly said, “It was a good day, and I hope I don’t have to wear shoes, ever again!”

Her mother asked her what shoes were, and Lilly had trouble describing them because she also couldn’t describe socks very well to someone who doesn’t know what they are. Finally, after deciding they were like clothes for your feet, Lilly kissed her Ma goodnight, and her Ma turned out the light so Lilly could go to sleep.

The next morning, Lilly was a little disappointed to find that she had shoes again, all neatly lined up in her closet. When she tried to go to school without putting any shoes on, her Da said, “Lilly, don’t forget to put your shoes on!” Even Mrs. Philopatyr was wearing shoes. Today was going to be a normal day. Normal was so boring.