Abandoned shoes are everywhere.
On the subway.
On rubbish tins.
I spot a lone trainer on the sidewalk.
Who lost their shoe? Where’s the other?
Deep questions, destined to go forever unanswered.
Suddenly it hits me: An overwhelming desire
to do something I’ve never even thought of before—
throw my own shoes over power lines.
In the high street I remove and tie my shoes together:
Dress shoes: heavy; as uncomfortable
as waving to someone you don’t know—
then trying to play it cool.
They’ve got to go.
Hurling them into the air, they wrap around the lines—and hang majestically.
Freedom! I run in socks down the street as passers-by stare.
How long must I wait for the evolution of the dress shoe?
No time at all.