©Marna Blanchard 2016

©Marna Blanchard 2016

Sitting in comfortable silence, with the television blaring, she glanced up from the computer screen, where she had been numbing her mind alternating between Bubble Witch Saga and Mahjong, some inexplicable sixth sense forcing her to look. “Fuck!” the silent swear exploding in her mind.

On the remaining ball of his left foot was a big, dark, broken, blood blister.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” filled her head.

In a flash the past and future collided. Multiple rounds of antibiotics, surgeries to save the foot, only to end, again in amputation.

The final shoe from the God’s frigging closet had fallen.

©Marna Blanchard 2016

Marna Blanchard, a hopeless romantic and grammatically challenged writer.

2 Responses to “The Final Shoe by Marna Blanchard”

  1. David Braden Says:

    Hi Marna, Thanks for this little shock and awe with a lime twist! I found the alliteration F-Bombs ferociously effective.

  2. carlaspeak Says:

    “The final shoe from God’s frigging closet” is a wondrously funny phrase.

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