Confessions from a Sales Rack

A Story by Lindsay Elizabeth

Created from the prompt "Sometimes it takes courage to walk away and today she was feeling very courageous."

Sometimes it takes courage to walk away and today she was feeling very courageous.

Very courageous. Very….courageous?

The word stuck in her throat, unmoved by the desperate need to declare freedom from her haunting obsession.

Just let go.

Let it--

go.

That’s the miracle solution the brilliant Dr. Martens manufactured when the medication stopped working and her husband decided to move to the couch for the night--or until she made room for him: emotional and physical room. But obsession had arrested her mind and her wallet a long time ago, and marriage just didn’t seem to be the right fit anymore, at least not in the bedroom. Of course she had tried to make space; she had tried hiding her secret behind the white washed closet doors facing the bed but it still stared her in the eyes every night and soon cascaded out onto the carpet.

Healing. Healing of the soul.

That’s what her pastor told her. Something about a void that needed to be filled.

Healing?

It kind of sounded like courageous-- artificial in a very real way. Just a word. Just a euphemism for “I’ll never get over this but I’ll pretend like I’m okay. Like I’m a real warrior or something.”

Healing.

It made her laugh.

Heeling of the sole, maybe.

Yeah, that sort of therapy she could deal with: no shrinks; no 3:00 AM arguments; no anything--just the comfort of a soft, cushiony insole and the support of a strong six-inch heel. That’s all she needed; that’s all she wanted; that's all she felt as she gazed at her reflection in the department store mirror.

What a bargain.

Sometimes it takes courage to walk away from everything and everyone you’ve ever known, but walking away in a brand new pair of stilettos makes giving up look a lot more stylish.