Loki's Magic Shoes
A feathered cloak.
A pair of magical shoes.
A journey to truth.
Before you judge me, you need to hear this story. I was young. A liar. A thief. A bit shallow. Lustful. Jealous. Stifled by Asgard’s order. You can understand my situation. Nevertheless, I do hope you forgive me. They don’t call me lie smith for nothing. Also silver-tongued, god of mischief, and all the other names that float about the nine realms. I like Loki. Simple. To the point. Catchy. I am aware of my imperfections—the very few I have.
Okay, a bit vain too.
But know this! We all have flaws. They are what makes us unique, special, and dare I say, interesting. Without them, without that jealousy, without that greed, or lust, and oh how I do enjoy that lust, our lives would be rather boring, wouldn’t you agree?
So, pull up a chair. Sit back. Relax. And allow me to regale you with the story about a time that I wanted to learn how to fly with my magic shoes.
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