I'm running through the streets of Soho in stilettos to catch the late train home, feeling like Cinderella as she left the ball just before the clock struck and she returned to rags. I had been to the Freedom Bar on Wardour Street and I certainly felt free! I had sung, danced and drank and was exhilarated. I reach the underground and sit smiling as I travel to Euston. I change my shoes to pumps, with a 'don't care' attitude, but I do check in case there's a prince charming to leave my high-heeled slipper to find. Then I run again and just make my connection. On the train home, relieved I will still see my daughters before they sleep, I remove my red ribbon in case anyone I know sees, and it's back to reality, to poor cinders and commuting in silence.
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