Shoes by Delphine Quinn

Shoes by Delphine Quinn

"I only wanted one shoe."

The saleswoman looked at me, confusion written all over her face, "One shoe?"
"Yes, I only need the one. Can you do that?" She grinned and explained in her most polite voice that the department store only sold shoes in pairs, and that I'd have to buy the set. I did.
Walking home, my prostethic clicked with each step onto the pavement. It had been three years since the man I loved had lost his mind. He'd tied me up, using my rock climbing harnesses as restraints, my most prized posessions turned against me.
I remember watching his face and wondering where the man I'd loved had gone? As he trained the hammer over each of my toes, his smile had threatened to break his face. Each toe was shattered, one by one, as he sang that children's rhyme about the little piggies going to market.
I'd screamed, of course I'd screamed. I'd begged him to set me free, to stop the agony he was putting me through. But he only proceeded to take his hacksaw and remove each toe, bit by bit, until nothing remained but sinew and bone. 
He'd kept me there for days, every few hours cutting off another section of my foot, and then up to my leg. He used an iron to cauterize the newly formed wound each time it was made.
It was a fluke, the mailman showing up to deliver a package. He heard me screaming and called the police. I was lucky.
Looking down at the pair of shoes, I realized I could find a use for the other shoe. After all, my husband had been released from prison a few weeks ago. And he had a date with a hammer. 
Smiling to myself, I looked at the pair of shoes. We always were a perfect set.

 

Delphine is a horror author from Kentucky. Be nice to her or she'll cut your foot off!


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