Thread: Freewrite - 'shoes'

The subject of freewriting has recently come up again so it occurred to me to start a challenge thread for it.

Open a blank word document (or whatever you write on) and set a timer for 5 minutes. Write like your hair's on fire...don't mull it over first, don't stop, don't edit or fix...just write. When the timer stops, you're done.

The aim is simply to practice getting thoughts down onto paper without the clutter or worry about perfection (or even necessarily making much sense).

I threw in a prompt to make things interesting: Shoes.

Here is the freewrite I just did:

The patent leather shone in the pale lighting of the shoe store and the pigtails bobbed as my little girl made her solemn decision. Yes. These were the ones.

We had to put the old shoes into the new shoebox and the new shoes went out of the store on proud feet that danced.

She danced in front of the mirror. She danced in a ragged play dress-up dress and plastic tiara. She danced for Daddy when he came home and the shoes had to be carefully dusted and placed in the bottom of the wardrobe like new puppies being put to bed at night.

The dress was a secondary affair, it had bows on it and the best thing about it was that it twirled. Twirliness is a very important attribute in dresses.

It’s been two years now and I managed to put the dress away today. It lies shrouded in a box, laid to rest under the bed. The shoes I still can’t touch. They sit on the corner of my dressing table, still dusted everyday. Still shining with a little girl’s fond pride. Maybe one day they can join the dress in the bottom of my closet of memory.

The sun fell today, thudding from its height with a sound like candles falling

(and here the timer went off)


Huh. Gloomier than I expected. Let's see what others come up with!

There wasn’t anything he could do about it. He had run out of time. Night had risen and although the moon was in the sky it did nothing to help his vision as he tried to make his way through the nothingness.

They had warned him to leave town but he hadn’t listened. He said he couldn’t leave. When the reality was that he didn’t want to. He wanted to stay he had too many things to leave behind. No not family and friends as he had none of that, but he was wealthy. He was wealthy with countless possessions and he wouldn’t leave them behind. He thought he couldn’t leave them behind but that was just a lie. They meant too much to him, but now he regretted that decision. Now he could see that his life was on the line…..or more to the point falling off the line.

Someone had smashed all the streetlights and robbers had broken into the local stores. Electrical equipment had been stolen and discarded boxes of food littered the streets. He fell over a box and cursed as he went down.

There was a burning smell somewhere behind him and what sounded like a crowing, but it didn’t come from a bird. He walked faster not able to see where he was headed. Blindly waving his arms out in front of him until they collided with something large and sticky.

Oops sorry forgot about the shoes aspect....oh well I guess he is wearing some lol

LOL...the shoes weren't required. Just something to help if someone needed a little focus.

Phew! (wipes brow)

So, randomness ... not quite sure where this came from :S LOL.

***

She’d always been fascinated by shoes, ever since she could remember. And why? All because of a fairytale. Cinderella to be exact. The idea of a glass slipper, that only one foot could fit perfectly into … well, it had seeded in her mind, taken a hold of her … obsessed her.

How could glass hold an entire person’s weight? Well, why not, when so did leather and plastic? A glass slipper … it was a dream, the ultimate symbol of dreams coming true. Since that dream had taken over her life, she’d determined to have a pair. Wherever she had to go, whatever she had to do – she’d have her glass slippers.

It turned out she didn’t have to go that far – just a couple of blocks away there was a glass blower’s studio. A couple of hours every evening, learning the art, the craft. It took work, hard work, and dedication. But once an obsession takes you over, nothing matters. Nothing, except fulfilling that ideal, that dream.

So now, holding a pair of glass slippers perfectly fitted for her feet in her hands, she felt the warm glow of satisfaction. And more than that, the excited pride of having her dream come true – and making it come true herself.

So it was a shame, when she tried the slippers on, that it turned out glass couldn’t hold a person’s weight, and they shattered.

A wierd one here but it's my first attempt at a prompt.

**********************************

Shoes. Shoes personified running. Running meant that you could escape from something. He wanted to run. He wanted to escape and to escape he needed shoes. His eyes fell on the white surface of the running shoes. Escape wrapped up all convenient like. He grinned wildly as he donned the white god-given gifts. The feel of them was incredible. Like the feel of a lover’s embrace on a cold morning or the heat of the passion that comes with making love.

The shoes were all these things and more but what it boiled down to was that these shoes offered that which he longed for above all else. Escape. He had wanted escape for some time now and only these shoes had the potential to take him far away from his problems. These shoes that sat in front of him now, taunting him for his lack of speed.

He put them on and felt them mould to his feet, their lover’s touch unbelievable. He was lost in the feeling. The feeling of anticipation. The feeling that he was about to run off into the distance and that somehow, his problems would not be able to follow him. A fantasy for sure but one that had played tricks with his mind in his most resent years. These shoes that taunted him so. But the question he longed to ask. The question he had so often thought about… why were the shoes high heels?

Stomach muscles churning, burning, turning. I am leaning over this porcelain skinned king wanted you to just look at me. Here go the waves tumbling out of me, around me. I can’t see. Watching the fishes and their swirling colors, their blinding melodies as we all
Scream. I throw my hands down, drowning them into the sink. All I can think of is the board between my knees and rising to meet the full force of nature. Take the plunge, wipe off the blood with a sponge and go again. My mother’s wrinkled hands twist and turn, tying up the hemp necklace with the pinkish blue seashell for me. The ocean and I are one. Father used to call me Mermaid. The little Mermaid. But he was always a blurred face. A constant reminder why there was a big hole in my chest around Christmastime where it never snowed. Instead we had lawn gnomes glaring out from under their cone hats, their stares as burning as the Hawaiian sun. Don’t you dare touch me! I smack his hands away and bow down to the porcelain king. I used to be the best you know till everything I breathed was green and no longer did the ocean hold my self-esteem. You know, things really aren’t what they seem. Look at me. Professional surfer, perfect body, perfect tan, but everything isn’t quite right. Gap in my teeth, hair too stringy and wet, throw it up in a pony tail. Abandoned from everyone except the board and the waves and the crushing sensation of balance and Infinity.

An old shoe is very comfortable. You’ve had it for a while, and basically it’s served you well. You’ve broken it in and you know all of the different parts about it. If it’s raining then you already know if your feet will stay dry, and if you have a long walk you already know how your feet will feel after ward, so yes old shoes are comfortable, but maybe there’s more out there then just comfort.

New shoes have such promise in them. There are all kinds of new ones, but there’s one new one in particular. There’s all kinds of new stuff with the new shoes. You don’t really think about all the differences until you’re just about ready to get rid of the old shoes.

You’ve had your old shoes for quite some time, and they’ve served you well. It really makes you think.

But after all, there’s more out there then just comfort. So it’s time to get rid of the old shoes, and move on to bigger and better things. Like a baby bird as he jumps out of his nest for the first time. A baby bird has never flown before when he takes that first jump (well actually the mother bird throws the baby bird out), old shoes are very comfortable.

Originally Posted by Nefieslab

A wierd one here but it's my first attempt at a prompt.

Hahaha, best ending evar.

i though it was okay