Some people have a good grasp while others are banana fingers. In their hands, objects slip like sand. You would often find them awkwardly grinning, a broken glass at their feet.
But I had always been different. I was Miss Banana Feet (nope it's not remotely related to the disease). And that’s where all my Tooti-Chappal Syndrome begins. You see, my feet repel footwear. I am pretty sure it’s not because of my smelly toes. No matter what I wear, they just slip out. One moment I would be walking in heels, striding with confidence and in another moment .. bam!! … one of the slippers would be staring at me from a distance while I would be standing still, with a bare foot… confused and embarrassed. Then I do a whole langdi-tang to get back my slipper and run as fast as possible, hiding my face.
Now Now, I don’t blame fate anymore. Not after that fateful summer morning. I was hurriedly walking, trying to cross the road. By the time I reached the other side, as usual, one of my kitten-heel ballerina was gone. I looked back, trying to find a lone slipper in the milling crowd.
“Looking for something!!”
And there he was, impeccably dressed in dark suit with matching checked tie, a book in one hand and my damned shoe in another. Yeah Cinderella beat that!!!
“I don’t believe it, I just don’t. Of all the things, she got THAT gene from you.” He said in a surprised tone. I had to stifle a laugh.
Our little Ria was hopping on the cemented pathway.
“Daddyyyy!! can you get that for me please!!”, she said, sheepishly grinning ear to ear, pointing to the orange footwear lying on the white sidewalk, that had slipped from her feet.
“Of course, Sweetheart”.
(Photo - Prompt)