Walk on, Little Shoes | Teen Ink

Walk on, Little Shoes

May 29, 2008
By Anonymous

Brand new. Not for long. They ate my feet the second my eye caught them and decided that would be their last meal. Once that happened, there was no turning back. The first step was exciting. Going to a new place, giving off a vibrant vibe and making a great first impression. The second step was just as good, for it had been the stage of “fitting in.” Then the routine was consistent, every action being planned and hackneyed. But for some reason, change was craved. They walked out of Westlake on a white frosted, winter morning. Chilled to the skin, they became a magnet to the cold, juicy slush. They played “slip and slide” with the ice frozen to the concrete while easing their way into the passenger seat of a cherry red Ford Taurus, splattered with salt residue. With a little shake, they dried off and cuddled up with the heater under the dashboard. The next step was inexperienced. A slow step out of the car and into a massive building holding the world in the palm of its hand. The answer to get to any place known to landing, these birds shook the ground. The shoes scurried to location, boarded the plane and sat uncomfortably scrunched under the seat of Claustrophobia. Hours later, they stood upon a brick walkway that led them to happiness. Attempting to walk in every direction, they were dazed on a starting point. Squashed against the gritty sand, every step left an imprint on earth. They reached the edge where life roared and splashed the salty Pacific against them. The tears of water reflected my eyes as reality slapped me across the face. Chills ran up my spin, leaving my skin lumpy and my mind set on one indescribable thought. The bare essentials of life. Contained with the unexpected, a hypothesis as to where these shoes will go next is inevitable.

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