Stay wasn't bothered with going places, public places, walking on even cement in dull tones wasn't for her. Nor were the narrowed eyes and hunched shoulders curving away from her view. Pain of rejection wasn't something to get used to, it was something to bear. She wore it in black lines scattered on her arms, dots in deep blue and plum ran down her fingers. Reminders of those who snubbed her, Stay only had herself.
Stay was not self sufficient. Craving companionship was heartbreaking. The desire to grow crops of corn - paper cuts of green as she stroked their leaves, wheat - haze of gold in the rising sun bleeding through her windows, strawberries - hearts dotted with seeds to give life, treasures to hold in handfuls, and pumpkins - seeds to bake and a shell to, carve faces and line drive, was devastating
Land surrounded her, but it was not her own. Stay could not grow her self sustaining nature. Instead she relied on the small markets that opened in town every Sunday morning.
Blending in was easier. Strange folk came out of the woods to buy strange things. Strange folk sold strange things. Stay tried her best to appear less strange than them, but the town knew her. She was not just strange with broken teeth or dirty hair. Not just strange living in a wooden box with no electricity or plumbing. Not just strange eating small beasts over a small fire. Not just strange, but peculiar.
Sunshine sprinkled in, creeping along her pale wood floor, casting colors of bright red, green and blue from her glass window depicting a beheading. Time for the market.
Except, where was her other shoe? Stay had few shoes. Preferring to be barefoot she abstained from wearing them. They were tight on her feet, pushing on her toes and weighing her down. They were necessary.
A mint green shoe with red laces. She found the left foot hanging from a ceiling hook in a closet full of nets where it belonged. Scowling at the shoe, she sighed and set it down. A final glare before she plopped down on the worn brown rug in front of the closet and tugged the shoe onto her bare foot, "Where's your fellow?" she asked the shoe, cocking her head as she tied a bow.
The shoe was pristine. Only wearing it on well worn trails on Sunday mornings, the colors were vibrant and the sole barely used. Stay scrubbed her foot with a hard bristle brush in the bath before putting them on.
Left foot on, Stay stood and hopped around the house in search of the right. She did not hop on the shoe, but on her bare foot. The weight of the left shoe like society crushing her into a skin that wasn't her's, into an idea her mind couldn't comprehend.
"These damned shoes and this damned place!" Stay hollered as she hopped from one room to another. The silence called back, "Hush".
© Ash Huntley
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