Mel was in the downstairs rec room watching something stupid on television when she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye.
It was one of her dad’s crappy old brown house slippers floating in the air by the door. She could see the top of it bulging, as if toes were being wiggled around inside it.
Her breath hitched.
The slipper began slowly floating towards her. This made no sense and she was having none of it.
“Get out,” she said, hoarsely.
The slipper paused in its wobbly, floating path towards her. Then it changed direction, crossing in front of the television and began approaching her from the other side.
“No,” she hissed. “I said get out.”
The slipper stopped in mid-air, bobbing back to front like a car that has had the brakes applied. Then it slowly descended to the ground and moved no more.
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A few moments passed and Mel realized she had been breathing so shallowly she was a bit light-headed. She breathed deeply to calm herself down, keeping an eye on the slipper.
She looked at the door and saw the toe of the other slipper peeking in around the corner, about a foot off the floor. It began to float tentatively in.
“No!” she said.
The slipper disappeared. Then it reappeared about 4 feet higher, peeking in again. Mel began to panic. “I said no!” The slipper pulled away again, only to reappear, but this time peeking out at her from behind the television.
“SHOO!” she said, throwing the remote control at it.
And then both slippers (not shoes) flew around the room like insane deflating balloons, coming close but never touching her. She screamed, trying to swat them away but flailing away at them to no avail.
And there the slippers stayed since that day, buzzing her like hornets, day in, day out, since 1969. It took a very brave man to see past this, but she married that man. But then again, he had forks for eyes, so I guess he just took what he could get.