Flying Down the Stairs

Flying Down the Stairs--

That particular day I decided to wear a pair of pumps with rather high heels.  Not my usual attire for a day at work, but this pair of shoes were simply the perfect complement to my outfit.  No matter that I would be on my feet all day.  It was much more important that my look was together.  So I slipped these perfect shoes on and started down the stairs.

Thirteen stairs make up this stairwell.  At the bottom of the stairs is a coat closet.  I took the first step.  The next steps were made in the air as I tumbled head over heels down those twelve steps landing with my lovely pumps high in the air over my head.  How I wish I could have seen that happening.  Would have been a perfect sight gag.  When I completed the tumbling and came in for a landing, I was resting against the closet doors with my feet high in the air.  Even now I get tickled at the picture that must have been.  The long, dark scrapes told me where my feet met the door--high over my head.  Even through all of that tumbling, the shoes remained firmly on my feet.

Righting myself required a bit of manuvering.  Especially since the outfit I selected to wear that day had a pencil skirt.  You know, the kind that fits rather tightly. Once upright, I examined everything-including every bone in my body.  There were no tears in the skirt, and my heels were not damaged. But it was very clear to me that by day's end muscles would be screaming in pain.  I took a tentative step to be sure nothing was broken--like a foot or leg.  Everything functioned properly so I walked  through the kitchen, grabbed my purse and headed for work.

We left the marks on the closet doors for a long time.  Seeing them reminded me to carry high heels down the stairs.  No need to tempt fate twice.