The Slippers Kingdom part 1

Sandro had just moved into an old isolated farmhouse in the countryside, not far from the village. It hadn't cost much, and he knew there would be a lot of work to do. At 26 years old, he was happy to have been able to buy his first house, to finally feel at home. He imagined himself living there for a long time with Cindy, his partner, and maybe even raising their children.
On the first night, when he hadn't finished packing up his things, he went to bed in the room they had designated as their bedroom. Cindy wasn't there yet; she was to join him the next day with her furniture and belongings.
In his bed, as he sought sleep, he heard a strange noise, a sort of scratching, that seemed to come from the old wall closet where he had put his coats.
"Dang," he thought, "there's mice in this shack. We'll have to deal with them."
He got up, turned on the light, and opened the closet with a jerk, hoping to surprise the rodents. But he saw nothing. However, the noises continued, seemingly coming from the other side of the wooden wall. He pushed his clothes aside to get a better look and noticed a handle.
"Strange", he thought, "there should be no room behind it, this wall faces the outside of the house."
Nevertheless, he turned the handle and opened the door. He was stunned to discover a landscape that offered itself to him, in the middle of his closet. A small path wound in front of him, in the middle of fields. A little further on, on the right, he saw a forest of large leafy trees, while on the left he guessed a village. In the distance, mountains closed the horizon. The most astonishing thing, besides the fact that the path was at his height, even though his room was on the second floor, was that he did not recognize this landscape at all. This village, these mountains were totally unknown to him.
Sandro wanted to go and see without wasting time. He was already in a t-shirt and training pants. He put on his slippers, the only pair of shoes that were within reach. They were black, closed, old-fashioned corduroy slippers. He had been out in the garden with them from time to time, but he was trying to keep them clean for the house. He wasn't sure if they were the most suitable shoes to go on an adventure, but he was so curious that he didn't ask himself any more questions.
He entered the closet and walked through the door. He found himself on the small path. Immediately, the young man turned around to check that the gate was still there, and was reassured to see that it was still there.
He walked along the dirt road. It led him in the direction of the forest. The weather was warm, but it seemed to have rained recently, according to the mud puddles that adorned the path. He was careful to avoid them, not wanting to get his slippers dirty.
After a few minutes, he saw a group of people working in the fields. They had no machines, they were working the land with tools. Not knowing how they would react when they saw the intruder, Sandro tried to be discreet. But the path brought him closer to them and the farmers spotted him. They waved at him from a distance, which encouraged him to continue.
When he was at a distance to hear them, they said to him:
"Welcome stranger! Can you help us?"
He approached again and replied, while still on the path:
"Hello! Help you do what?"
"We are digging to get out a huge mandrake root. We make a famous alcohol out of it in the area. But it resists and we won't be too much help with an extra pair of arms".
Sandro was embarrassed. He didn't want to get dirty and wanted to continue exploring this place. And suddenly, looking at the peasants, he noticed that they were all wearing slippers on their feet, exactly like his own. They were all covered with wet, greasy earth. Very surprised, he said to himself that he had no reason not to help them, and that he could continue on his way once the root had been pulled out.
So he left the path and walked into the field. His slippers sank several inches into the earth, which stuck to his soles. Curiously, he found this sensation very pleasant. He joined the small group of farmers, who had dug a hole more than a meter deep, at the bottom of which there was mud and the famous root. They were all dressed appropriately for field work, except for their slippers.
"Thanks for the help," said the one who appeared to be the leader of the group. I think we've done enough digging, now we'll have to pull this mandrake out of the ground.
Sandro looked at the root, then at the feet of his new companions. Their poor slippers were so covered with dirt that it was impossible to recognize their original color. But this did not seem to disturb the peasants. He dared a question:
"Tell me, why are you all wearing these shoes, and not big boots?".
The more cheerful one answered immediately:
"Boots don't exist here, everyone wears only slippers, all the time. These are our work slippers, we have others for all occasions: for going out, for the house, for winter, etc. And I see that you yourself are well equipped. Your slippers are perfect for dirt or mud."
The young man found this very strange. In what country did people wear only slippers, all the time? Sure, they were by far the most comfortable shoes he owned and he imagined he could walk for a long time in them. But for everyone to wear only slippers was strange.
"Well, shall we get started?" said the leader.
And he jumped down into the hole. His slippers landed in the mud puddle, which they were immediately covered with. The others imitated him, while Sandro hesitated.
"So, are you going to help us or not?" he was asked.
Thinking that, at worst, he could always buy a new pair of slippers if necessary, he jumped into the hole.
Mud covered his slippers, and he felt a form of excitement rise in him as the moisture touched his skin. It was very pleasant. And he also liked to see the slippers of his comrades coming out of the mud and going back in with each step.
They grabbed the big root and started pulling together. Their feet sank even deeper into the mud, trying to get the best support they could. Sandro looked more at the spectacle of his slippers wiggling in the mud than at the root itself. He was savoring the moment.
Finally, after much effort, the root began to move and emerged from the ground.
"Well done, boys," said the leader. "It's a beautiful root, we did a good job. And thanks to you, stranger, it would have been more difficult without you.
They emerged from the hole, holding their trophy.
Sandro looked at his slippers, totally brown with mud. But he had a good feeling, reinforced when he moved his toes inside his shoes.
He noticed that it was getting dark. His companions had to return to the village and offered to accompany him. He hesitated, but decided that he would also go home.
On the way back, he stopped trying to avoid the puddles and stepped into them voluntarily. He was happy with his discovery and, as he walked through the door back home, he promised himself to show this place to his companion.


Le royaume des pantoufles part. 1

Sandro venait d'emménager dans une vieille ferme isolée en campagne, pas tr éloignée du village. Elle n'avait pas coé tr cher, et il savait qu'il y aura beaucoup de travaux faire. 26 ans, il était heureux d'avoir pu acheter sa premie maison, de se sentir enfin chez lui. Il s'imaginait y vivre longtemps avec Cindy, sa compagne et peut-re me y élever leurs enfants.
Le premier soir, alors qu'il n'avait pas encore fini de ranger ses affaires, il se coucha dans la pie qu'ils avaient désignée comme chambre coucher. Cindy n'était pas l elle devait le rejoindre le lendemain avec ses meubles et ses affaires.
Dans son lit, alors qu'il cherchait le sommeil, il entendit un bruit étrange, une sorte de grattement, qui semblait venir de la vieille penderie murale oil avait mis ses manteaux.
Zut, se dit-il, il y a des souris dans cette baraque. Il va falloir s'en occuper.
Il se leva, alluma la lumie et ouvrit la penderie d'un geste brusque, espérant surprendre les rongeurs. Mais il ne vit rien. Cependant, les bruits continuaient, semblant venir de l'autre cé de la paroi en bois. Il poussa ses vements pour mieux voir et remarqua une poignée.
Bizarre, pensa-t-il, il ne devrait pas y avoir de pie derrie, ce mur donne sur l'extérieur de la maison.
Il tourna néanmoins la poignée et ouvrit la porte. Il fut abasourdi de découvrir un paysage qui s'offrait lui, au milieu de sa penderie. Un petit chemin serpentait devant lui, au milieu de champs. Un peu plus loin, sur la droite, il vit une for de grands arbres feuillus, alors qu'gauche il devinait un village. Au loin, des montagnes fermaient l'horizon. Le plus étonnant, outre le fait que le chemin était sa hauteur alors que sa chambre se trouvait au deuxie étage, était qu'il ne reconnaissait absolument pas ce paysage. Ce village, ces montagnes lui étaient totalement inconnus.
Sandro voulut aller voir sans perde de temps. Il était vraiment d'un t-shirt et d'un pantalon de training. Il enfila ses pantoufles, la seule paire de chaussures qui se trouvait portée de main. Il s'agissait de pantoufles noires, fermées, en velours celé, l'ancienne. Il était déjsorti de temps en temps au jardin avec elles, mais il essayait de les garder propres pour la maison. Il n'était pas certain que ce soit les chaussures les plus adaptées pour partir l'aventure, mais il était tellement curieux qu'il ne se posa pas plus de question.
Il entra dans la penderie et passa la porte. Il se retrouva sur le petit chemin. Immédiatement, le jeune homme se retourna pour vérifier que le passage soit toujours l et fut rassuré de voir que c'était toujours le cas.
Il avan sur le chemin de terre. Ce dernier le menait en direction de la for. Il faisait chaud, mais il semblait avoir plu récemment, d'apr les flaques de boue qui ornaient le sentier. Il fit attention les éviter, ne voulait pas salir ses pantoufles.
Apr quelques minutes, il vit un groupe de personnes qui travaillent dans les champs. Ils n'avaient pas de machines, ils travaillent la terre avec des outils. Ne sachant comment ils allaient réagir en voyant l'intrus, Sandro essaya de se faire discret. Mais le chemin le rapprochait d'eux et les paysans le repérent. Ils le saluent de loin, ce qui l'encouragea continuer.
Lorsqu'il fut distance pour les entendre, ils lui lancent:
Bienvenue étranger! Peux-tu nous aider?
Il s'approcha encore et répondit, tout en restant sur le chemin:
Bonjour! Vous aider faire quoi?
Nous sommes en train de creuser pour sortir énorme une racine de mandragore. Nous en faisons un alcool fameux dans la région. Mais elle résiste et nous ne serons pas de trop avec une paire de bras en plus.
Sandro était gé. Il ne voulait pas se salir dans la terre et souhaitait continuer explorer cet endroit. Et soudain, en regardant les paysans, il remarqua qu'ils portaient tous aux pieds des pantoufles, exactement comme les siennes. Elles étaient toutes couvertes de terre humide et grasse. Tr surpris, il se dit qu'il n'avait pas de raison de ne pas les aider, et qu'il pourrait poursuivre son chemin une fois la racine arrachée.
Il quitta donc le sentier et marcha dans le champs. Ses pantoufles s'enfoncent de plusieurs centimres dans la terre, qui colla ses semelles. Curieusement, il trouva cette sensation tr agréable. Il rejoignit le petit groupe de paysans, qui avaient creusé un trou de plus d'un mre de profondeur, au fond duquel il y avait de la boue et la fameuse racine. Ils étaient tous vus de fan adaptée pour le travail aux champs, hormis leurs pantoufles.
Merci pour le coup de main, dit celui qui parut re le chef du groupe. Je crois que nous avons suffisamment creusé, présent il va falloir tirer sur cette mandragore pour la sortir de terre.
Sandro regarda la racine, puis les pieds de ses nouveaux compagnons. Leurs pauvres pantoufles étaient tellement couvertes de terre qu'il était impossible de reconnaître leur couleur d'origine. Mais cela ne semblait pas perturber les paysans. Il osa une question:
Dites-moi, pourquoi portez-vous tous ces chaussures, et non des grosses bottes?.
Le plus gaillard répondit aussit:
Les bottes n'existent pas ici, tout le monde ne porte que des pantoufles, tout le temps. Ce sont nos pantoufles de travail, nous en avons d'autres pour toutes les occasions: pour sortir, pour la maison, pour l'hiver, etc. Et je vois que toi-me, tu es correctement équipé. Tes pantoufles sont parfaites pour la terre ou la boue.
Le jeune homme trouvait cela tr étrange. Dans quel pays ne portait-on que des pantoufles, tout le temps? Certes, il s'agissait de loin des chaussures les plus confortables qu'il possédait et il imaginait pouvoir marcher longuement avec. Mais que tout le monde ne mette que des pantoufles, c'était étrange.
Bon, on s'y met? dit le chef.
Et il sauta au fond du trou. Ses pantoufles atterrirent dans la flaque de boue, dont elles furent immédiatement recouvertes. Les autres l'imitent, tandis que Sandro hésitait.
Alors, tu nous aides ou pas? lui demanda-t-on.
Se disant que, au pire, il pourrait toujours acheter une nouvelle paire de pantoufles au besoin, il sauta son tour dans le trou.
La boue recouvrit ses pantoufles, et il sentit une forme d'excitation monter en lui lorsque l'humidité toucha sa peau. C'était tr agréable. Et il aima aussi voir les pantoufles de ses camarades sortir de la boue pour y replonger chaque pas.
Ils saisirent la grande racine, et se mirent tirer tous ensemble. Leurs pieds s'enfonient encore plus profond dans la boue, essayant de prendre le meilleur appui possible. Sandro regardait plus le spectacle de ses pantoufles qui remuaient dans la boue que la racine elle-me. Il savourait ce moment.
Finalement, apr de longs efforts, la racine se mit bouger et sortit de terre.
Bravo les gars dit le chef. C'est une magnifique racine, nous avons bien travaillé. Et merci toi, l'étranger, aurait été plus difficile sans toi.
Ils ressortirent du trou, tenant leur trophée.
Sandro regarda ses pantoufles, totalement brunes de boue. Mais il éprouvait un sentiment agréable, renforcé lorsqu'il bougea ses orteils l'intérieur de ses chaussures.
Il remarqua qu'il commenit faire nuit. Ses compagnons devaient rentrer au village et lui proposent de l'accompagner. Il hésita, mais se dit qu'il allait également retourner chez lui.
Sur le chemin du retour, il n'essaya plus d'éviter les flaques d'eau et marcha dedans volontairement. Il était heureux de sa découverte et, en franchissant la porte qui le ramenait chez lui, se promit de faire découvrir cet endroit sa compagne.