The amethyst-covered boots had been worn by an evil wanton in medieval Florence—but what malefic power did they carry over into our own time?
ic saw none of it. He scarcely thought, though his lips moved, as if chaotic words were struggling for utterance.
He looked down at his hand, where two long red scratches oozed a trickle of blood. After he had washed his hand, he lay down on his bed and covered his eyes with his arm, against the picture of Suzanne. Above all else there stood out the gleaming tips of her little shoes, as he had glimpsed them through the dim light of his room when she came toward him.
"She wore the Medici boots! The Medici boots! Suzanne must have taken them from the museum!" Over and over he said it--"The Medici boots! The Medici boots!"
Eric rather dreaded breakfast, but when he came down at eight, to the terrace where a rustic table was set invitingly, he found John and the lawyer awaiting him. John greeted his brother affectionately.
"Morning, old boy! Hope you slept well. Why so solemn? Feeling seedy?"
"No, no. I am perfectly all right," Eric replied hastily, relieved that Suzanne was not
A sweet young thing tries on 500-year-old boots made by a vengeful sorceress and gets more than sore toes. (Cue Nancy Sinatra singing "These boots were made for walking") However, it's a VERY short story and over way too soon. Enjoy it for what it is. But imagine it in the hands of Stephen King.
It is good, but then how can you go wrong with clothing gone bad?
