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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

GA Writing Prompts - 23. # 92 The Red Shoes

span># 92
In a story use the following words: card, red shoes, young girl, freezing rain, and puppy.
A twist on Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tale ‘The Red Shoes’ (http://www.andersen.sdu.dk/vaerk/hersholt/TheRedShoes_e.html) with a different ending.

The Red Shoes

 

There once was a young girl. She was said to be vain and proud. Karen was her name and all she cared for were clothes and looks. What she admired most were her red shoes. She went in them to church while all the others were dressed fully in black. Everybody shot Karen angry looks, but Karen chose to ignore them. A man with a red beard stopped her at the entrance of the church one Sunday morning. He pointed at Karen’s red shoes.

"Those shoes are good for dancing," he said.

Karen ignored him and she ignored the angry look that he gave her. However, the man stepped in her way once more.

"Those shoes are good for dancing," he said again.

And then the terrible happened. Karen’s red shoes started to dance. She could not help it and she could not stop it. She danced away. The red shoes led her way. She danced day and night, at sunshine and in the freezing rain. An angel appeared to her after some time.

"Help me, O Lord. Have mercy on me," Karen begged as she held out her hands to the angel.

However, the angel refused to help her. Karen’s heart sank and she opened her mouth to speak up again. But the red shoes carried her away once more. Dancing, she moved over fields and wastelands until she came to the house of an executioner. Karen, meanwhile feeling despaired, begged the man to strike off her feet. The man listened to Karen’s story, and then he tilted his head and looked at her gravely.

"I can strike off your feet if that is what you wish for. But think twice, young girl. Are you a sick puppy or are you just a puppet? What right had the man with the red beard to condemn you? What right had he to cast a spell over you?"

Karen looked at the executioner while she was dancing around him.

"Did not the angel support his idea? He had no mercy on me, however desperately I begged him," she said.

The man looked at the dancing girl.

"Perhaps you asked the wrong question, young girl," he said slowly with a meaningful look.

The red shoes carried Karen away before she was able to give a reply. Karen pondered and for the first time she ignored her dancing and her red shoes. A day passed and a night went by. And Karen, deep in thoughts, kept on dancing. In the morning, the angel appeared to her again.

"I heard your silent call," he said. "What is on your mind, young Karen?"

"The man with the red beard, he was a queer card. I don’t think he had the right to cast a spell over me. After all, I’m young and I want to enjoy life and have fun. Why should I go to church every Sunday morning, dressed in black clothes and black shoes, like an old widow who is mourning? Can’t I just honour God when I do what I can do best and when I express myself fully? I am who I am and I do enjoy dancing. I think ballet dancing is what I amdesigned for," Karen replied.

The red shoes stopped and Karen stood silent. She looked at the angel in wonder. The angel tilted his head and studied the girl. A small smile appeared on his face.

"Only few want to stand out. They rather choose to disappear in the crowd. But you did not give in, young Karen. You took heart and you showed courage. Become a dancer as fate has ordained. May you do well and God bless you, young Karen!"

The angel disappeared from Karen’s sight. Karen looked down at her red shoes. The shoes had turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

"Thank God!" Karen said with a smile.

And then she danced a dance of joy.

Dolores Esteban
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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