Shoe story

Shoes

Every shoe has a story, or even many. The places they have been to, the weight the carried, the speed they travelled, and how worn out they ended up.

I was walking by the cemetery and I saw a shoe, on its side, alone, not in pair! I wondered why it was travelling alone and how it ended it journey in a cemetery? Was it owned by someone above the cemetery or someone underneath? My wild imagination even made think of a man running back to his grave and as he disappeared inside the shoe dropped off and stayed as a testimony of the journey.

I went the following day and I could not find the shoe, it must have been reclaimed by its owner, the man in the grave. Or maybe a passer-by picked it up, or the foxes took, or maybe the caretaker removed it. I know which explanation I prefer.

The thought of the abandoned shoe stayed with me for days, I wanted to know what stories it carried, what places it had been to, and why it was left alone in a cemetery. I asked my shoes what they think? I do not have many shoes, my work shoes said it must got lost, my work shoes only know the way to and from work, it has seen so much at work, but outside it knows nothing, probably it does not know if a world exists outside my work. My trainers were made for sport, but I don’t do sport, they live a life that they were not intended for, they said the shoe must revolted against its owner. My sandals said it must wanted some fresh air, my formal shoes said the shoe must have been mad to go to the cemetery on its own.

Van Gogh bought a pair of used shoes, wore them for hours, through rain and mud then decided to paint it because they became interesting enough to paint. The shoe must had so many stories, and Van Gogh added his own to it, then painted it.

Every shoe has a story, or even many, what’s your shoe’s stories?