The Goddess Who Borrowed My Grandmother's Shoes

How it begins

The goddess asked for shoes suitable for being adored.

Tessa Navarro looked at her bare feet, then at the workshop shelves.

"Do you expect to walk anywhere?"

"People generally come to me."

"That may be why your feet look so soft."

The goddess frowned. A small flower appeared in the crack between two floorboards, apparently as a correction to the atmosphere.

Tessa had mended boots for shepherds, wedding slippers for nervous brides, and one pair of ceremonial sandals whose owner insisted the squeak was part of the ritual. She had never fitted a deity.

"Your name?"

"Julia Sen. Keeper of the Valley's Returning Light."

Tessa wrote Julia on the order slip.

Outside, the village prepared for the autumn festival. Banners crossed the street. Women carried tables from the meeting hall. A man stood on a ladder explaining to the people holding it that he could manage perfectly well alone.

The goddess watched through the window.

"They used to sing when I arrived."

"They've been setting up since dawn."

Tessa took down a pair of brown shoes from the highest shelf. The leather had been patched twice, the soles replaced more often than she could count.

"These belonged to my grandmother. Try them."

"They are not especially radiant."

"They got her everywhere she needed to go."

Julia put them on.

The workshop seemed to lengthen. Beyond the door, the street stretched toward the well, the school, the steep lane to the oldest houses. The goddess took one step and heard, all at once, the small tired sounds of a village continuing.

She stopped smiling.

Tessa offered her a bag of repaired boots.

"Since you're going out, would you take these to Mrs. Vale?"

For a moment, the goddess looked as though she might ask whether it counted as an offering.

Then she picked up the bag.