![]() Ripping open the package there were shoes in there- black ones one-inch heel fairly simple brown paper protecting the leather from scratches or wear from shipping taking the paper away from the waiting they seemed to ask, “Are we going anywhere?” placed both on the floor slipping feet within walking around they moved up and down the wooden worn out floor boards stomping loud responses music playing in the background of memory set aside for building life taking them off placing them at the foot of a dress demanding the box be thrown out in the recycled trash and the shoes stay in promise smiling at the new leather the unscratched newness of possible caressing night lights as they sit there at the bottom waiting for movement from the demanding dress the caressing night lights the possible By Melinda Cochrane also published at lifeasahumanmagazine
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