The real red shoes: year one

It’s been a year since I’ve shown you my real red shoes. I got out of my attic and I started dancing. I didn’t quit dancing and they haven’t cut my feet off. I feel that my initial idea based on Margaret Atwood’s Lady Oracle was not quite right. At least, so far I haven’t noticed anyone directly trying to cut anyone’s feet off. But I fear that now they found another much subtler way than that. They are not barbarians or anything. They now merely look the other way; they get into your mind convincing you that you don’t need the shoes, that there is no hope.

 
But you have to keep dancing no matter what. You have to remember that the red shoes are not necessarily bad for you. If you click your heels together you might go back home, right?