Once there was a girl who was born at the beginning of a six year war. She thought shells and rockets were normal. Every morning the girl went with Leah, one of the young women in the apartment house to get bread for everyone.
Most days nothing happened. Some days they would hear explosions but see nothing. Some days they would see others hit by sniper fire. Leah was fifteen. She was angry at the war. There was no fun, she said. But she did get to meet a lot of soldiers. She always had cigarettes and sometimes she would share them. Leah could do great things with her few clothes. She always looked good. But shoes were different. You can't fake shoes. She had just one pair. High heels. She treasured them.
This day the sun was shining. Many people had come outside to enjoy the warmth. The two girls kept to their careful route to avoid being targets for the gun emplacements in the hills. They laughed and talked together in the sun. The little girl's hair blew across her face. ``I'll braid your hair when we get back,'' said Leah, ``you will look so cool.''
At the bread shop there was a crowd. ``Damn!'' said Leah. The bread would be gone before the people at the end of the line were served. Just then the gunfire started. Machine guns in the hills raked the square and people fell everywhere. The girl hit the ground and lay in the gutter tight against the curb. She closed her eyes. If she died she would know nothing. She did not understand other people's fear.
There was chaos in the square. The firing stopped. People were screaming. Leah lay on the cobblestones. ``I've been hit! Oh God Oh God I've been hit!'' The girl crawled over and looked at Leah. No blood.
``I've been hit!''
No-one stopped to help Leah. There were people with their guts spilling out of their coats or with arms or legs blown off.
``Leah! It's just your shoe! Your shoe was hit! Just your shoe!'' Leah stopped yelling. She sat up and looked at her shoe. The heel had been blown off.
``Damn!'' said Leah,'Damn damn damn!''
When they got back to the apartment building with no bread and half a shoe missing the people were glad they were safe, but Leah was angry.
``A broken foot fixes itself,'' she said, ``but a broken shoe can't be fixed.''
The girl tugged at Leah. ``We'll find more shoes,'' she said. ``Please braid my hair.''