Clippety-Clop

Have you ever owned a pair of them?
They go "clip clop" really loudly and at the slightest provocation. I tell you sometimes its just plain annoying. For you, and all the people within a 5 mile radius.

Today, I wore my clippety clop shoes. I found them in the depths of the shoe cupboard and wondered why I hadnt been wearing them in such a long time. I vaguely remembered an embarassing situation from PUC, but couldn't quite put my finger on it owing to the fact that I happened to glance down at my watch just then and realise that if I didnt leave RIGHT THEN, I'd be late for class and my dear darling teacher wouldn't give me attandance.
The point is, (and I am digressing terribly, I know) that the red clip-clops were strapped on and made their way into the outside world at last.

On rushing onto the street after locking the door and closing the gate, I knew this had been a big mistake.
Clipetty clop! said my shoes in response.
The street dogs were startled out of their morning slumber. The cows raised their heads from their lazy cudd-ing. Shop keeper's peered out to see what all the commotion was about.
Clippety clop! said my shoes cheerfully to each of them.
I hopped into an auto and they became sullenly silent.

I was late after all. But very slightly.
However, that gormless, toothless, witless, canniving, trecherous, resentful, ... ahem...
Well, I didn't get my attendance despite the torture of sitting through that entire class. Although I did create an uproar as I ran through the media department. That was fun.
Clippetty clop! my shoes had managed to scream in passing.

As the day progressed, I grew very sleepy. For the first time, I think, I actually slept in class.
I mean REALLY slept.
Not the putting your head down on your desk kind of sleep.
Not the gazing into space looking really dim kind of sleep.
Not the I'm so bored I want to kill myself but don't have the means to and hence will merely close my eyes and meditate kind of sleep.
But the actual sleep kind of sleep.

We were in the media lab. The lights were dimmed. The chair was soft and comfy and the desk a perfect arm rest. There was the sound of drum beats from outside. There was the thought of those poor PUC kids exhausting themselves in the afternoon sun doing their march past-ing, and the thought of me here in the cool and soporific media lab. There was the fact that I still havent caught up on all the sleep I've been missing this past week (I must set aside an entire day next week for that purpose, hang on while I flip out my blackberry...). There was no clippety clop to disturb me (they were sulking again) and all these circumstances were just too much to resist against.

I was gone 40 minutes. I dreamt. The last thing I remember was me watching the grey background-ed slide show and dreaming of something completely different from it. There were cartoon figures, and garlands I think. I sat like that, my head resting on my hand resting on the desk attached to my comfy chair, sleeping, for 40 minutes. I'm surprised (and thankful) that I didn't fall off my chair or anything. And that I didn't drool all over my arm. And that my sweet (really, I'm not being sarcastic this time) teacher didn't notice.

I woke up just as she was giving us an assignment. At first, I didn't know where the hell I was. It dark and weird and just plain frightning. I turned around and saw Y and was frightened still more.

The indignant clip clop! of my shoes brought me to my senses suddenly and everything came rushing back to me. I collected myself aswell as I could and paired up with TheTenZen to do the assignment. I walked out dazed.

The Clear and Coherrant Clippety Clop had become a Slurry and Shoddy Sloppety. . . Slop which sadly, annoyed my friends even more greatly than the earler cry had. However, there was nothing (I was bothered) to do about it.

The shoes complained a great deal after that. I gave them a good talking to and stowed them away at the back of the cupboard. I told them to think about what they had done.
It will be quite a while before they see the light of day again.