Luna walks uphill, the grass soft beneath her bare feet. The village children say she has lost her mind, but she hasn’t. She has lost her shoes; that’s why her feet have become filthy on this long, winding walk. Then again, ‘lost’ isn’t really the right word for it. Her shoes have been stolen from the very same children that call her names.
She won’t tell her father, doesn’t want him to worry. Just last week, she lost her mother, the only person she could tell everything to.
Looking up at the sky, she whispers, “Mummy, I lost my shoes.”