Again about shoes. I don't know why... here goes...
Writing about Places and object, or things... another writing exercise
There are many suggestions in this exercise about places or objects to write about. I'm going to attempt to write about 3 different pairs of shoes. Not sure how far I'll get, or how well I will do. I must admit this is fiction as the stories about the shoes are not completely true.
They are a black pair of sandals in a man's size, purchased in Maine maybe to replace the pair I had worn out before them. The older pair had been many places, and this pair has begun to journey as well. The older ones were easy to pack, did well in airports, and survived in hot weather or in the rain. The older ones were black and blue. They went with me to Brussels in the rain, and got wet while I wore an ugly poncho in the cathedrals there. They went with me to Venice and supported me as I walked along the cobblestone canals. And they went with me to Spain where we saw 5 cities in 10 days, absolutely insane!
The newer sandals have not left the country, but they have traveled well. We have been to Nevada, to the Black Rock desert together twice. They have been to Florida and New York City, and to the beach more times than I can count. They got a lot of use when I was pregnant and my feet began to swell, and more use still when I came home. I like these newer sandals and they have become more worn. They can tell of a cross-country road trip in a rented pick-up truck, and of arriving in Las Vegas at 6am. They know of love, and home, and all these goods. They get carried around the house on days when I do not need them by a little girl who thinks I have small feet. They have many more years of traveling and memories in them I am sure.
The shoes I wear today are sneakers, purchased at the local mall. They are permanently laced and stretched out to be comfortable. I can slip them on and off even when I don't have a free hand. They smell like sneakers do of course. White with a little bit of pink, but mostly they are the color of sand, and maybe there is a hole or two emerging underneath the threads. They do not make my feet sweat. I do not touch the outsides much since they slide on so easily. Inside my feet feel soft and cushy. They let me walk quietly except when it rains and then I am doomed to squeak down the hallway of the quiet library. I bought them when I knew I'd be in an airport, burdened with a stroller, 4 carry-ons, and a 2 year old. I needed shoes that would go through security and back on again while my hands were tied up with other things. They served the purpose well. They walked through Epcot and Magic Kingdom and came home to walk the dusty roads near home. They replaced the sandals for the weekend to Martha's Vineyard, in November, in the rain. The memories they carry are all recent ones, and all seem layered with the word "mom". My husband is always surprised when I get anything pink, but the pink is faded and somewhat hidden, and perhaps that is another clue as to who I am too.