The shoes the fairies gave her

The fading evening sky hovers gently above the place where the forest meets the moor and meadows. Small sounds of life scurry and hasten across the warming earth, whilst above, a brush stroke paints a vision of hazy blue, touched by the pinks and purples of early evening. The scented air of spring lies soft and still, holding everything in place for a single moment, a perpetual landscape. Villages and farms stretch away in the distance, held by pale strands of stratus that dips, touching the earth below. It is a time undefined by the hands of any clock, as the moon rises from its sleep and the sun prepares to rest a while. It is now that the fairy folk emerge from their woodland dwelling places, moving towards the forest’s edge as they hear the sound of familiar footsteps approaching.

Easing herself gently down, Ruby settles her body onto the soft mossy ground. Her scarlet dress pools around her as though fallen petals of a fragrant rose, the delicate embroidered poppies across her shawl, catching the dying light. Ruby closes her heavy eyes, opens her breast and inhales deeply, cherishing the sensation of the dusky air, thick with the scent of damp earth and moss, the whisper of old memories and secrets drifting like mist through the twilight.

Ruby’s lips curl in a demure and blissful smile, the seeping edges of scarlet lipstick staining the fairy paths; lines that have settled there over the years. So many have danced upon them, the folk of this down and the dew, lovers and friends alike. Their laughter and longing etched into the fine creases of time.

The fly-agaric mushrooms stand at her side, squatting little silent sentinels surrounding her, capped in red and white, watching, guarding this most precious moment. Ruby reaches out, the fingers of her hand, feather-like, so white pale and light, trace the brittle edge of a fallen leaf, feeling the sensation of every curve and hollow. Memories stirring like dust in the golden dusk. Her eyes still closed, a melody faint and distant, dapples across her senses. That first time they danced together, his breath on her neck… and now the purple dusk of twilight time, steals across the meadows of my heart… The old dance halls, polished wooden floors, the sensual beat of the band reverberating deep within her body. A time of enchanted innocence and blossoming adulation. Ruby’s feet move now, marking the tempo. Each step, her red satin shoes amidst the green of the moss, the amber glow of fading sunlight.

A sound overhead interrupts the intimate sway. The eerie, churring sound of a nightjar above, heralding its spring arrival. Ruby opens her eyes once more, tilting her head, marvelling as the long tailed creature jerks and swoops across the magenta sky. It soars, a life-force, unrestrained, free, and she follows it’s path as it glides in bursts through the twilight. Ruby’s eyes fall on the track of the ancient lane, her feet recalling every bump and turn as it winds its way to the old stone cottage, standing for longer than anyone could recall. Its weathered front door of crimson paint, once bold, now flaking away in delicate curls, revealing the smooth, bare wood beneath.

Inside, tucked within her mother’s old chest, lies the crinoline skirt she had worn on those heady nights of reckless enchantment, deep within the forest and winding across the lush verdant meadows. Her mind, taking the glorious journey back along those dusty paths to the dimly lit distant memories, Ruby recalls the sensual feeling as they’d embraced in the heat of the August sun, the blaze of fire against their skin. Her chest aches with the beating pulse of stolen moments and whispered promises, scorched by the flame of a fire, once set ablaze, that never went out. And the shoes, oh, those red shoes! The ones bestowed upon her by the fairy folk. The ones that had carried her through wild revelry, through longing and heartache, through the most sweet intimate love, the cherished turning of seasons, the turning of life.

Tomorrow, the sky will be filled with ombre birds, their wings brushed with hues of twilight, as they circle and call to those who might still hear. Their song will endure, casting the crotchets and minims through time, forwards and backwards, never ending, never still. Ruby takes a photograph from her pocket in the folds of her skirt. She holds the faded image in her fragile hands, its edges curled with time. The two faces, once vibrant, now grey, captured in that one fleeting but unforgotten moment. His dashing looks, her rouged cheeks, their eyes twinkling. Locked in a gaze that knew nothing of the story their lives would tell. Bound by the purest love, the simplest untainted joy. Now the years have drained the colour from their smiles, leaving only whispers of what has been.

The sun is bleeding across the distant horizon. A dish of molten gold spilling over the edge of the world. A small breeze curls around Ruby’s slender shoulders, lifting the stray strands of silver in her hair, brushing her cheek with a lover’s touch. Her eyes flutter closed, the memories washing over her in a slow, aching tide. The scarlet dress. The eyes that had followed her as she moved through the flickering firelight. The sound of soft leather shoes against the earth, weaving between the roots and shadows. A breath. A presence at her side. Ruby turns, her heart fluttering against her ribs. And there he is. As if no time has passed at all, as though the photograph in her hands has never faded. His eyes, filled with the old familiar mischief and devotion, lock onto hers. His hand, warm, steady, reaching for her own. He smiles. A smile that holds every dance, every whispered promise, every fire-lit night. Ruby feels her body rising from the ground, the red shoes guiding her. The music echoes through the corridors of her consciousness, as they move gently together, in each other's arms, feet and hearts in unison, my stardust melody, the memory of love's refrain… 

And as the fairy folk gather close, dusk reflecting in their amber eyes, the wind stirs amidst the trees, carrying whispers of old vows that brush against the leaves. Overhead, the circling birds trail a melody across the sky as dusk turns slowly into nightfall. And then his lips meet hers. Soft and familiar, a rush of warmth that blooms in her breast and moves through her limbs. A life-force, a moment caught between past and present. Their breath trembles in unison as the absence unravels, falling away into space and time with such sweetness and enduring sense of belonging. The kiss is deep, aching with memory and fire, of promises never broken. Each waiting step, every dance, those precious moments suspended in time. Ruby is filled with a kiss brimming with fire and passion; a kiss filled with longing, filled with love.

The music has edged away into the far away distance, and Ruby opens her eyes. Her gaze moves slowly towards her feet, once more nestled on the mossy ground. The red shoes, still as beautiful as the night the fairy folk gifted them to her, fitting like a second skin. Their laces, a fierce blaze of crimson, gleam in the last remaining moments of twilight. Ruby smiles, lips curving gently in knowing surrender, as the last breath of the sun melts into darkness, a poured dish of burning light. Time that has seeped out of the glass.

A slice of moon hangs behind her, pale white against the indigo black of darkness, and the red shoes glimmer in the hush of night. Ruby’s eyes are closed as the fairy folk emerge from the shadows, their luminous eyes alight with anticipation. They step softly across the grass, their hands outstretched, ready to take her home.