Write, listen.
Right, list and…

Okay, the question mark in the title has a purpose. I called it Shoe Shop, but it seems my pre-teen brain turned on ADHD mode and went on a rambling tangent in this story. At the time, the school was not giving us lined paper, so I would naturally write in an ark, but then try to correct myself. Creating this weird situation where the end of a sentence would be where the previous sentence started.
It’s the only way I can explain it, because I cannot be arsed taking a photo of this right now. If someone asks, I’ll show them.

Currently, trying to decipher this as I type this.

“When me and my Mum went to the shop, I dont know what shop it is but I got used to the shop.
Sometimes I got bored I just got out my book but I had no pens.
I was sad.
Then the shoes had one flower on each one. I tried them on. They were perfect.
Then we put the shoes in a box and then we went into the car. Then we went home.”

No fucking clue.

I believe this is earlier than the previous one. I have cleaned up the writing a little for ease of reading.
This bullshit got me a little certificate, which I proceeded to doodle on for the remainder of the day.
No teacher feedback this time, I may have got star writer, but the standards were probably pretty low if that shit got me a gold star and a pat on the head.

It was also still a point where the teacher had me writing the… I’m not sure what definitive name to call it. The “Who, What, Where, Why & When”, by literally writing all those words in a list, then beside them, writing the “answer”.

This one was not fictional writing, I actually somewhat remember this, or can imagine it well enough in my head from fragmented memories. Pretty sure the store was a Clarks.
I hated shopping in general, but hated it ever so much more when it was my mum trying to get me to wear things she wanted me to wear. As I stated, I’d much rather be drawing.

The shoes in question were those pre-croc looking girls-shoes for school. With tiny little holes on the top, where those flower pins had been stuck through, looking like Lelly Kelly knock offs. Pretty sure those flowers were pink, of course they’d be pink.

Now that I think about it, the only thing I liked about being in the shoe shop was: The boy’s shoes, running up and down the huge lane between the isles, getting the staff to measure my feet, and the smell of the shoe shop. Actually looking at shoes I’m supposed to be looking at? Ick.

Yea, this one isn’t as good today. But yeeee. Happy Thursday.