There was just one shoe, abandoned, halfway in the gutter. I picked it up, looked at it.
It was a nice shoe. I didn’t know much about shoes but the leather felt soft and expensive and it looked carefully assembled. I wondered if it’d been made by a cobbler. I’d never met a cobbler, but I liked the word. I liked eating cobbler, too, but not the human kind.
I looked at the underside of the shoe.
LEFT, it said, in thick black marker writing.
It was a right shoe.
I put it back down and left it there.
Word Count: 99
Friday Fictioneers is a weekly blog hop hosted by Rochelle. She posts a photo prompt then challenges readers to write a 100 word story inspired by the prompt. It’s a fun challenge. Give it a try! Check here for the info then write your story and post it, link up and enjoy the other stories!