The Promise

He wore the pointiest shoes that I had ever seen; I couldn’t work out where his toes would go, and soon suspected he didn’t have any. I stared whilst scuffing the toes of my own brown buckled school shoes. I hated them. Mum wouldn’t let me have slip-ons. She’d said that I wouldn’t be able to run in them, remembering made me scuff even harder. I realised he wasn’t a normal adult when he didn’t stop me. I didn’t linger on that though. Just anticipated the bright red cherry on top of the Banana Split he’d promised me earlier.