La Boutique Obscure: 124 Dreams

No. 110: March 1972

My shoes

Did I lose my shoes? How did I lose my shoes?

It was at a large carnival: you could take a spin in the air by mooring to the end of a rope attached to a ball and chain, or to balloons — the classic gag where the balloon salesman is carried away by his balloons.

The trip ended on a very high platform. To get back to ground level, you could — this was one of the most popular attractions at the carnival — slide through a huge fabric tunnel (like an enormous sleeve filled with folds, like a gigantic spindly intestine): they told me it was very impressive and absolutely safe.

It was quite agreeable, in fact (freefall, but totally safe) and, indeed, perfectly harmless.

Leaving this apparatus, very satisfied, I went to sit down on a bench. It was then that I noticed I had lost my shoes.

I call the employee responsible for the bottom and ask him to go check if my shoes haven’t wound up at the bottom of the apparatus. He tells me this is not possible. I insist, adding that these are lace-up boots, nearly new (someone just gave them to me), easily recognizable. But the employee continues to swear this never happens, could never happen. I have to insist for a long time before he decides to go look.

Several times he comes back carrying shoes that are obviously not mine. Finally he finds one, then the other.

A detail I had not yet spotted: at the tips of my soles there are two little metallic pegs that allow the boots to be instantly adapted to ice skates.