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

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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!