The Heel

I walk across the wooden floor of my lonely home. It sounds as if a heel pounds against the cold, wooden floor, but I’m not the kind to wear sexy shoes. And I look down inspecting my feet. Of course, I’m staring at the same old white sneakers.  Could it be that every time I tread on such comfortable shoes, I perpetuate that frustrating noise?

A series of black smudges darken the floor, they hold on dearly to the wood as I try to rid them with a wash cloth. It’s no use.

I assort my groceries in the fridge. Going organic is mighty expensive these days. I scratch my head at a sweet idea. Well, I could plant my very own garden! That surely sounds exciting. Get my mind off the nuisances of everyday life.

The next morning I glare hard and long at the mess in the fridge. It seems as though I had not gone grocery shopping. Half of the eggs are missing, tomatoes have gone spoiled, and stupid tomato sauce everywhere! Oh my, I’m glad I hadn’t mistaken that for blood.  Though I must admit, it looked almost too red.

I look out at the dazzling, summer day. Sometimes I fear the sun. The way it reddens my pale skin. But today, I am forgiving and chamomile tea sounds delicious to take on the balcony.

I’m by the stove pouring boiling water into my mug when I see two placemats on the dining table. But I’m sure I had only placed one.

Then I hear that disturbing CLICK CLACK of the heel. I watch the wooden floor darken with each step. The noise getting louder. Closer.

The funny thing here is that I’m not moving. I guess it’s not funny if you really think about it.

It stops at the dining table. The chair moves and I watch the placemat gently glide across the table. It all comes to me. How could I forget?

I have a guest living in my home!

I ought to teach her some manners though, don’t you think?



3 thoughts on “The Heel

  1. I am sure, she is going to overstay her welcome.

    I know their kinds. Watch for her. Never keep you fridge empty. Get rid office your closets and utensils. No knife. Avoid blood and reference of blood. Never talk to her by looking into her eyes. Dont sleep after three. Keep holy water close by. Always praise her. Never ask her to leave. Otherwise she is going to climb over you and merge herself into your conscience. You will never know what happened but nothing will ever be the same.

    Nice work. Liked it very much.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Damn. Just yesterday I kicked her out for good. At least I thought I did. I’ll be prepared for her return though. Thanks for that advice my friend… I might just kill it… if that’s even possible. These wretched things are no friends. It may act like your dead grandmother but don’t be fooled…


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