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Stories Of Baby Shoes Never Worn

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Outrageous. Truly and utterly outrageous.

They were perfect. Knitted from the softest Merino sheep wool available, dyed organically in a bright pink, knitted lovingly by hand.

And now they were being drooled on. Drooled on by this toothless tiny thing staring at them.

“Oh no Johnny, honey, don’t put that in your mouth, it’s dirty.”

Dirty? Dirty?! In the entire history of the world there had never been any shoes that had felt as much anger as the baby shoes did this very moment.

If they could, the shoes would have screamed at the creature that gently tugged them out of the tiny thing’s mouth. Instead they had to content themselves with trying to make themselves as itchy as possible before they were put away into a dark place.

Take that, the shoes thought grimly. May your hand break out in a rash from the power of my wool!

Dirty, who could they dare.

Left in the drawer, alone in the dark, the shoes sulked, unwanted and unworn.

When they next were pulled out they were wary. Would they once again be subjected to the horror of the tiny toothless thing’s mouth? Removed from their dark prison just to be insulted again?

But alas the creature they were brought to was not one of the smaller types but one of the bigger ones.

“Oh, they are adorable!” a high voice chirped happily. “Miranda will look so cute in them!”

The shoes took immediate notice. At last! They were appreciated! Acknowledged for their finest points – their perfection and adorableness!

The shoes smugly let themselves be handed over to the other creature.

Goodbye, they thought as the creature took them away. May our paths never cross again! Had shoes been capable of evil smirks, the shoes would have done so.

After a short travel in another dark prison, though this one smaller and moving, the big creature carefully held them over the feet of another small thing .

For a moment the shoes felt happy. They were perfect, they were adorable and finally they were about to be worn-

“Huh, that pink is more of a rosé, isn’t it? That won’t go with your jammies, no, that won’t go at all, we can’t have the colors clash like that, can we princess?”

And then they were removed from the tiny thing’s feet. Silent rage tore through the shoes, their threads feeling like they were on fire from the fury burning inside of them.

This world could just not appreciate their genius! Their certain je ne sais quoi! They were wasted on those tiny thing’s feet! Wasted!

May your threads come undone, the shoes thought wildly. May holes appear in your soles neither knitter nor cooper can fix!

May you step in the deepest puddle there is and not be cleaned until next fall!

The shoes continued screaming silent curses at the big creature as they were put back into the moving prison. This time they spent a bit more time in it before they were removed again.

“I made those for Elliot,” the high voice chirped again, sugar-sweet. “Knitted them by myself!”

Once more the shoes were handed over. Once more they were transferred to a moving prison, though this one was a bit bigger.

Maybe, the shoes thought bitterly, maybe it would be best if they just stayed in the prison this time around. Nobody to insult their radiant glory, nobody to droll on them or threw them away because they thought their color was not the right shade…

Then the moving prison was opened and the shoes immediately perked up. They were taken out and brought over and then carefully attempted to be put over some tiny feet.

Attempted. The feet were tiny, yet not tiny enough. A few moments of fumbling as the shoes refused to sacrifice their quality by stretching out even more where interrupted by loud wailing.

“Oh sugar pea,” the big creature sighed. “That size did fit you just last week! You are growing into a giant.”

And with that the shoes were returned to the prison. And for a moment something that could almost be considered doubt sneaked into the shoes.

There had been several attempts for them to be worn. Several attempts and yet they never had actually been worn.

What good, thought the shoes gloomily, were shoes when they were never worn?

So deep were the shoes caught in their inner turmoil of depressed thoughts that they almost didn’t notice when the prison stopped moving and was opened.

“I have those, not even worn once. Just put whatever money you get for them down as a donation.”

The shoes were then handed over and then carefully put somewhere. Warily the shoes peered around.  Above them was a big sign and had the shoes been capable of reading – which they weren’t because they were shoes – they would have made out an S A L and E.

More interesting than the sign however was what was around the shoes. There were others like it, all around, some bigger, some smaller, some as pristine as they were, others rugged and with holes.

A sting of envy shot through the shoes when they realized that as dirty and broken as those shoes were, at least they had been worn in their life.

What, thought the shoes sadly to themselves, would I not give to finally be worn? For their soft Merino sheep wool to be put on some tiny feet, for its bright organically dyed pink to elicit delight from one of the tiny things and for the big creatures to sigh happily about those loving hands that had knitted them!

Oh, how they baby shoes -now for a sale, never worn- longed to finally be worn.

“Those ones! Please, please Mommy!”

Suddenly the shoes were picked up and twirled around. It was not a big creature but also not one of the tiny things. No, whoever had picked them up was too small and yet too big for either of those options.

“They will be perfect for Annabelle!”

With some confusion the shoes waited to be put once more into a small prison. However, this time there was no prison, they stayed in the hand of the … of the not tall yet not small being for a rather long time.

With care and something almost resembling reverence the shoes were then carried over to something.

“So soft, Annabelle! And so pink! Perfect for you!”

And with that the shoes were put on feet once more.

For a moment the shoes were confused. Those feet, they were not warm. They were not wriggling around, stretching them out. They were not immediately brought closer to a mouth to be drooled on.

While the shoes were pretty smart for shoes, they were not quite smart enough to grasp the concept of plastic, shaped into the form of a baby.

“Oh, Annabelle, they are so adorable! Don’t you love them? I love them!

But what the shoes understood was being lauded. They puffed up with pride, vowing to be softest, most adorable and perfect shoes possible for Annabelle .

Because, the shoes thought, after all they were baby shoes, now finally being worn.