"Careful, they're crystal."
"And you're putting that on my feet?"
She glared at me. I backpedaled. "They're the loveliest things I've seen. Ever. But do you think it's necessary?"
"Listen, honey, you'll never dance with such grace as you will tonight. Otherwise it won't just be your dress that is in ruins after midnight." Her grin no longer looked reassuring and grandmotherly.
I twirled gingerly, my ball gown billowing. "I'm really not that graceful."
"The prince is a shoe guy. This'll snag him."
That clinched it.
"No thank you." I handed her the shoes. "I'd rather be able to walk."
This short story is a part of the illustrious Flash Fiction Friday. Read the other lovely stories, spun off the prompt: "Careful with that, it's ..." at the links below!
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