Her Shoes

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It’s Thursday which is not #quickfic day. But, in an effort to stop me from submitting to them, @FaberAcademy have decided to run the competition today.

Well more fool them because I spotted it and entered anyway!


Boo hoo... A symbol of loss.
Boo hoo… A symbol of loss.

 

I know why her parents didn’t want me come, but I still went round to her house after the service.

I could see them inside, slumped together on the sofa, nodding and faking smiles at all the meaningless condolences.

I stood out on the street and watched them until everyone had gone and the darkness had chased the noise from the world.

I couldn’t go home.

I crept down the side of the house, desperate to find something of hers. Something that meant something.

I saw them on the lawn. It looked like she’d kicked them off before getting onto the tatty trampoline. I nearly cried then when I imagined her playing.

I looked at the windows overlooking the garden. They were empty and dark. I scurried onto the lawn, grabbed her shoes and hurried away with my prize.

I wandered the streets then. Clasping the shoes to my breast, unaware of my tears. I went to the bridge and watched the trains. I went to the park and sat next to an empty swing.

I went to Hope Alley which was where she’d proved how much she loved me.

I placed the shoes against the crumbling wall, just where she stood when we first kissed. I fussed with them, arranging them exactly how I remembered she’d place her feet, one foot flat, the other with the heel raised against the wall.

I imagined her ankles growing from the shoes, turning to calves, knees, thighs and skirt. I imagined her waist and her arms, her neck and her face.

She was so beautiful. That’s where they found me.


I’ve edited my entry now so it’s actually 18 words too long.

The winners are here

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