Reminders

It made her sad. That shoe in the gutter.

When she saw it, she thought of that other shoe in the gutter.

The shoe after the accident.

When her sister had been killed.

Of course, this shoe looked nothing like her sister’s shoe.

Her sister’s was an old Nike. It sat in the gutter long after they had cleared the car parts and broken glass, like an unclaimed prop from Cinderella.

At times, it had been covered with leaves and granola bar wrappers and the detritus of city living. Then, one day, it was gone.

Had it been reclaimed as evidence from her accident? Or, had the street cleaners finally picked it up and tossed it in the garbage.

The shoe was still there when she walked home from work.

No, this wasn’t left from an accident. No skid marks. No police tape or traffic cones marking off the area like there had been back then. It had probably fallen out of a gym bag or something, she decided.

It was there the next morning and she started to cry.

She had been too angry to cry after her sister’s death. Now the sadness was overwhelming her.

On her way home in the evening, she stopped to pick up the shoe. She started to cry again. She wept through the task of digging a hole in the garden.

“Thank you for your service,” she whispered, channeling Marie Kondo.

Still weeping, she placed it in the hole and buried it.

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This is my response to this week’s Unicorn Challenge. The Unicorn Challenge’s rules are so simple: no more than 250 words based on the photo prompt.

For the record, I have yet to read a single Marie Kondo book. She is the queen of decluttering, so I really should.

However, when I throw things away these days, I do thank them for their service, a Marie Kondo concept. It involves gratitude and acknowledgement of the purpose an object has served.