Her size 36 black and white heels were almost thrown away

My wife had already decided that her black and white heels had reached the end of their life. Size 36 and once immaculate, they now carried the evidence of evenings out, hurried walks across pavements and more than one encounter with unfriendly flooring. She placed them beside a bag of clothes destined to leave the house and thought nothing more of it. I did. When I noticed them there, I immediately rescued them and returned them to the bedroom. She discovered my intervention the following morning and demanded an explanation. I pointed out that a few marks hardly justified such a ruthless execution. She inspected the heels again, unconvinced, before eventually slipping them onto her feet for what she dramatically announced would be their final trial. I expected her to confirm her original verdict. Instead, she walked to the mirror, turned sideways and studied them in silence. Then she looked at me and started laughing. Apparently my ridiculous campaign had worked. The shoes returned to