© 2014 Lynsey

The new Cinderella

Taking a walk at lunchtime a few weeks back I spied a woman’s shoe lying, abandoned, in a rather inaccessible spot beside the motorway.

On my way back to the office, I began to consider alternative scenarios to explain how this elegant shoe came to be there..

1) A postmodern Cinderella rushed from the ball in her environmentally sensitive electric car. Never one to abandon the pastiche of history, Cinderella artfully placed the shoe ready for her Prince to find and return. Honey, this is Wellington. Your Prince is some self-absorbed Government wonk, and, with a sniff, is probably thinking the shoe was just further evidence of how the unemployed really do just bring it all on themselves…

2) Cinderella, power-dressed in her fab new shoes, blitzes the late night board meeting. Her BMW judders to a halt on the side of the road. She triggers a new roadside rescue app on her iPhone – “out of this world service” was the promise. She hears an inaudible sound, and is bathed in invisible light, as the tractor beam draws her, and the now purring BMW, into the body of the hovering UFO. In a blink, they’re gone; leaving her shoe behind. It is never discovered.

3) Bryn, hot tears burning his cheeks as the bitches in Club Ivy whistled and catcalled after him. “Oh Bryndarella, come back, we’ve got a little something for you!” He slowed briefly to reach out of the window and fling the cursed shoe over the roof before gunning his little car down the motorway, home to NaeNae. “God, I need a cup of tea and a gingernut right now,” he thought.

4) When it came to graduation from obedience classes Sin lived up to her name. If she had gone to the graduation, that is. Or the classes for that matter. Instead, Sin had had concentrated on her kleptomania skills, and had once again, nipped off with one of the neighbour’s shoes. She padded along the edge of the highway, ignoring the late night cars, wagging her tail happily. Finally, she arrived at her favourite spot, and dropped the shoe down with all the others – gone! Her entire shoe collection was gone! She sniffed with a sinking heart. No doubt about it, the road gang had been through that very afternoon and stolen her carefully curated collection. She barked angrily at fading smells of road sweeper, all cigarettes and sweaty armpits. “Oh well, back to Kelburn, I’ll just have to start over…”

Manifesto
14. Every day the ordinary can be the extraordinary.
17. Every day look through a new lens.
32. Every day have a laugh.

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