Red Shoes

You’d think to have a boy telling me they loved you and wanted to marry in the middle of a beautiful outdoor concert would me happy. I mean, it was lovely. There were fairy lights twinkling above our heads as we swayed to the music of one of my favourite bands, hands raised in the air singing tribute to Nelson Mandela as Mafikizolo sang Asibonanga. It was just almost perfect…

Except he isn’t thee prince charming. Yet again

Right scene. Right words. Wrong person. And this makes me deeply, deeply sad.

So I did what any sensible woman would do when stricken with a bad case of the blues….

I went out and bought new shoes.

One thought on “Red Shoes

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