Around seven months ago, a number of guests descended upon our home and remained for several days. Weeks later, after they had all flown, a pair of black shoes was located…left behind…nesting quietly and hidden on a shelf in a large coat stand. No one. No one will lay claim to these shoes. So…there they sit.
Over this past weekend, more guests descended upon our home and remained for a number of hours. After having waved them off as they headed off into the night…I returned to the living room and promptly tripped over a pair of…brown shoes. I’ve already inquired. No one. No one lays claim to these shoes.
I know where all my shoes are, although I’m mostly in slippers now, due to working from home. So actually…I may not really know where all my shoes are. Or socks…
And in the end, as all things including ourselves become stories, these shoes write their own stories; to whom did they belong? How did they arrive here? What led them to stay? Where will they journey next?
690 Saint Paul 