Lingering Shoes

The other day I saw a man in the street and I kept thinking about him, so I decided turn my obsession into a little story. Here it is:

Lingering Shoes

Thump, Thump, Thump
The sounds echo in my ear and I tilt my head down, scanning the feet of the passerby for the pair of heels making the racket.
I was deceived; the noisy culprits were flat and belonged to a male. Admiring the expensive-looking leather of the man’s shoes, and the craftsmanship that went into them, a smile spreads across my face. Not many men in America would have the guts to wear shoes like these. Olive green in color, the leather stretching across the toe of the shoe and joining with the perfectly carved caramel wood sole; the sole which creates that sharp, firm sound every time it hits the pavement.

Thump, Thump, Thump
Drenched in the ambiance of good style, I greedily search for more. The man’s pants are expertly ironed, the crease going down the leg resembling a long mountain range. My eyes move upward and I take in his flawlessly tailored maroon velvet blazer, the paisley pattern giving his outfit just the right amount of spice.

Finally, I see his face, European-looking and exciting to me, with a sharp jaw and dark hair.

Who are you?
I want to ask him.

What are you doing here in America?
You are far too fancy to walk the sidewalks with the short-
shorts-wearing college girls.

Where are you going?
Is the question I ask the foreign man in my mind as he turns down a side-street and disappears,the Thump, Thump, Thump of his shoes lingering in the air.


- Alyssa Marie Harn