Size 6

The Writer's Cramp - 7-8-24 - W/C 389

Shelli tried to decide - red or green. The selection of bowling shoes was limited. And really, she thought to herself, who will care if they match my outfit. She reached for the green.

“Hey! I wanted those!” She yelled as the stranger snatched the size 6 women’s off the shelf.

“Really? You wear that small a shoe too?” The stranger dangled the green shoes in front of Shelli.

Shelli snatched the green shoes, tucked them safely under her arms. “Yes I do, heck of a time now. Everyone seems to have big feet these days.”

“Hi, I’m Martha.” The stranger stuck out her hand. Shelli juggled shoes, purse, coat. She shook Martha’s hand in return.

“Shelli. I feel your pain. Ever try to find a nice shoe now in that size? I wear a 6 sometimes a 6 1/2. Seems I am always finding kid’s shoes or ancient old lady oxfords. When did small feet go out of style?” Martha grabbed the lone pair of size 6 women’s left on the shelf. She continued her dialogue as they paid for the shoes and a few lines of bowling. Shelli learned in a few moments all about her life, her loves, her kids and her love of bowling on her one day off of work each week.

The two women moved to lane ten, away from the men’s league in progress. Two lines turned into several more. A few snacks and beers later, they chattered away, trading stories and swearing to meet each week for bowling.

Martha returned her shoes. “Whew, I think I need my own from now on. These have seen better days.” The clerk shrugged, sprayed them with disinfectant, placed them back on the shelf.

Shelli placed her shoes on the counter. “How much to buy these?”

“I can let you have those for $50. We can’t find that size no more.”

Shelli glanced at Martha. They both smiled. “Nah. I wouldn’t give you $5. They smell like someone’s dead dog.”

“Make that a dead skunk and I think you have the smell, Shell.”

“Perhaps that’s the spray they use, ‘eau de skunk’.”

“I’m going to have to ask that you leave,” demanded the clerk.

Martha and Shelli left, laughing, arm in arm and vowing to return in a week to reclaim those size 6 shoes,


W/C 389