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I may be hopeless, lying down from the pain these shoes have caused me. But still, these hellish red shoes (from Paris!) are worth all the fortune and pain I had spent, just for him. I know he'll come and be my man, I'm just certain of it. He may not have noticed me tonight, but I can feel him coming soon, sometime in the next few months, he'll come knocking at the door of my Astor house apartment, and ask Papa if he can take me out to dinner or maybe to a dancing hall. I can just picture it now: he in his svelte suit and me in my flowered qipao, dancing our way through the crowds of Russian dancers. I just know he'll come, so I'll wait here, smoking and dreaming, picturing our perfect future together. [Katharina Droste & Jack Mur] |
