The Trail of Pairs . . .

Daily writing prompt

Tell us about your favorite pair of shoes, and where they’ve taken you.

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. . . of my Sneakers, Converse, Basketball hightop, Vans, Skechers—and Running Shoes!

J’you know ‘oh hoe. Tonight I’m running you! J’you know ‘oh hoe / that in the book of life, when we die / and review our biggest lie / of what we came here to do / and be and set debt / and pay. . . attention to, ‘oh ho / ‘oh no / way!

So one of the coolest awakenings I had was to review all the athletic shoes I had worn from birth–from my entire life–lined up in pairs, in the order in which I had purchased them, and in their final state of wear and tear with a reminiscent tear of the state of an endearment in my eyes as I rose from bed, with my all time favorite–a pair of Nike Air Max of the mid-nineties, which were the first two colors that came out, red and blue. I bought the red pair from Hector’s trunk at the loading dock when I arrived at work.

He had the deal of a lifetime: a pair of Nike Air Max for only one hundred dollars. I guess they hadn’t sold online or at a Niketown, and he knew a guy who knows things and I left it at that.

I’ve never since been able to get a pair like those at Niketown, as they never seem to carry the double A’s. Or is it the D’s? This sucks. The Nike Air’s are just a skosh too narrow. These were perfect. I had just got them broken-in just right–for my feet.

But I met a hustler on the tram although I naively didn’t know he was a thief, and after the shortest oral encounter I ever got, he ran out my door and grabbed my gym bag after I gave him a fifty–and both of my air max running shoes were in the bag.

I tried to run down to the lobby to catch him, but My pants were down, and he had already opened the window to the fire escape and vanished. Damnit.

So when I pass away, I will smile at the pair of white Converse in the eighth grade that had my name blacked out by the boy who looked over my shoulder to see my combination and get caught later by coach who saw my shoes with my name blacked out, or the Pony’s I loved running-in at night for my 4.5 mile loop–and at Brewer Field House.

No, the pair I want back when I die are the original Nike Air Max pair with the red stripes that I got out of Hector’s trunk, that I lost that morning at one am, when I got robbed in bed!