A Dorothy Complex
Zoe kept a pair of lipstick red shoes in the back of her wardrobe. She wasn't sure if she'd ever worn them -- maybe one day when she was pretending to be someone else -- but she kept them anyway. They made her feel . . . special. Even -- on her good days -- sexy.
Sometimes she took them out, fished them from under the pile of shirts and trousers she'd been too lazy to hang up. She'd place the shoes on the edge of her bed, just sitting together on top of the spread. A pair of ruby red shoes, lined up like she was taking them somewhere special.
She would stand and watch them.
She had plans for those shoes. Fantasies, really. Stories she created in her mind when things got dark and scary and occasionally unbearable. Great plans. Grand plans.
Plans she would never be able to carry out.
Sometimes the plans involved sensible Ruth, with her sensible clothes and sensible hair. Or fluffy, pretty Sam, who would look so wonderfully innocent, teetering around in a pair of red shoes. Once her plans even involved Ellie, with Tom watching them, half hidden in a dark corner of the room. But most of the time, it was Tessa.
Tessa was all about blood red shoes. She would wear them in public, flaunt them, combine them with expensive clothing, so everyone could see them. So everyone would want them.
So everyone would want her.
Zoe wanted her. She wanted Tessa in red shoes and red lipstick and a dangerous glint in her eye. She wanted Tessa to parade in front of the world, showing off. She wanted Tessa in her bedroom, in red high heels and a black slip of red lingerie.
She wanted Tessa to kiss her.
She wanted kisses along her arm, a trail of red lipstick marks, beginning at her wrist and fading at her shoulder. She wanted Tessa's hands (her red nails) to run across her breasts, lingering just long enough to make Zoe gasp.
She wanted Tessa to want her.
The red button on the answering machine was flashing when she got home from work. "Zoe, it's Tessa. Can you come over? I have some information you might find useful."
Zoe smiled and retrieved the red shoes from the bottom of her wardrobe. They were too tight, and they would give her blisters, but she would wear them anyway.
She had plans to keep.