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Welcome to the second issue of Sunday Shorts, your weekly dose of fictional short stories written by yours truly. If you missed the first, you can find it here: A Poop Story (or Lack Thereof). This week’s story is based on a Reddit prompt: Grandma Dorothy from Kansas just sent you a Christmas gift: a pair of ruby sneakers.
Ruth threw off her pink covers and jumped out of bed. Today was the day she’d been dreaming about for years: her 18th birthday. But it wasn’t just any 18th birthday. Since she was a little girl, Ruth’s grandma, Dorothy, had promised her on this very day she’d receive an extraordinary present.
“They’re going to take you places, my dear,” her grandma always told her.
Ruth ran out of her room and heard her grandmother talking in the kitchen at the bottom of the stairs. She might as well have tumbled down the steps she made it down so fast.
“Well, good morning, my dear,” her grandma said.
“Morning, Grandma!” Ruth said, her face flushed as she tried to hide her excitement.
Her father, still in his pajamas holding a cup of coffee, nodded at her. “Good morning, Sweetie. Big day.”
Ruth’s eyes scanned the kitchen, but there were no obvious signs of a gift.
“Care for any toast?” her father asked.
“No, thank you, Daddy, I’m not hungry right now.”
The three sat in a painfully long silence as Ruth looked all around. Her father sipped his coffee. Grandma Dorothy’s foot tapped softly against the wooden floor. Ruth didn’t want to be rude and demand her present, but it was all she thought about for years.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, I’m not going to make her wait, George,” Dorothy finally said. “She’s been patient for 18 years.”
Her father smirked while taking another sip.
“Have at it, Mother.”
Dorothy slowly stood up from the table, a bit more unsteady in her old age. Like Ruth, she had been waiting to give her only granddaughter this present.
They made the short walk to the living room, Dorothy’s feet shuffling along the floor, as Ruth held her steady.
“You’re going to love this, dear. I can hardly wait for you to see.”
Dorothy grabbed a box from behind the loveseat and handed it to Ruth, whose heart nearly stopped.
The box was tightly wrapped in white paper and written in shiny red swooping letters that could only be written by her grandma. They read:
To my favorite Granddaughter
May these take you on journeys
beyond your wildest dreams
Happy Birthday, my dear!
It was lighter than Ruth expected. As she hurried to open it, trying not to appear too excited, her mind raced: was it keys to a new car, plane tickets to a faraway land? Grandma had always told her it would take her places.
She opened the top of the box and found two bright red sequined slippers. Ruth could hardly believe what she was looking at: Grandma’s old shoes she was given when she visited the faraway land of Oz. Ruth had heard all about the story over the years, enough she could recite it herself. It was all a bunch of nonsense as far as she was concerned.
“Damn it, Grandma, not these!” Ruth said.
Dorothy shrieked, her smile disappearing as Ruth’s face turned as red as the shoes. Her father, standing on the outskirts of the living room, choked on his coffee.
“What am I supposed to do with these?” Ruth said.
Dorothy could hardly speak.
“These….these are my special shoes, dear. What do you mean? They’ll take you wherever you want to go.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard your stories, Grandma: the yellow brick road, the wicked witch, the tin man, the scarecrow, the cowardly lion…”
“Don’t forget about…” Dorothy tried to interrupt.
“Yes, I know, the big green man named Oz,” Ruth said, letting out a long sighhhhhh. “That didn’t happen, Grandma. You were clearly on drugs.”
Ruth grabbed the box and walked away.
“What a waste of a good surprise,” she said.
The only place the long-awaited present would take her was to the trash can.
About This Story
This story came from Reddit’s r/writingprompts subreddit. The original prompt was Grandma Dorothy from Kansas just sent you a Christmas gift: a pair of ruby sneakers. I didn’t want to follow what I assumed where most would go with the prompt: a happy, feel-good story about Dorothy’s red slippers being handed down to the next generation. Instead, what would happen if Dorothy gave them to her granddaughter, who thought she was a crazy old lady? Sorry, Dorothy.
Credits this week: Grandma Dorothy’s Ruby Slippers was written and edited by me. The podcast was read by Krysten Cabell, music by Setuniman of freesound.org.
What I’m Reading
Infinite Hope: How Wrongful Conviction, Solitary Confinement, and 12 Years on Death Row Failed to Kill My Soul (Book): This maddening—and inspiring—story details Anthony Graves’ nearly two decades in prison for capital murder. Graves, of Brenham, Texas, received two execution dates before he finally was granted his freedom in 2010. How can a man be sentenced to death for a crime for which he knows nothing about?
I Bought a Witches’ Prison (Narrative non-fiction story): Vanessa Mitchell bought her dream home. Then she became convinced it was possessed by evil spirits that forced her to flee.
The Beating Heart (Novel excerpt): You’re going to want to stick around for the ending to this one.
ICYMI
An excerpt from last week’s Sunday Short:
Before you even ask: Yes, I have tried to poop at other times. After a shower. At a friend’s house. At my parent’s house. At work. You name it and, by God, I’ve probably tried to poop there.
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