‘I wouldn’t get too close.’
The warning came from the little old lady standing behind us as we viewed the most improbable of sights.
We stood and stared at the boots that lay just ahead of us.
‘Spontaneous combustion,’ we heard her say.
‘One minute a man the next a pair of boots.’
‘You saw this?’ we asked.
‘Of course I’m his wife I see everything he does.’
‘But spontaneous combustion doesn’t make any sense.’
‘Well if you knew him it would. He was full of hot air.
Always going on about things, getting his blood pressure up. It was just a matter of time.’
‘You don’t seem too upset.’
‘No he had a good life. Couldn’t have wished this on a better man.’
‘That’s a bit callous.’
She looked at us then stepped forward and picked up the boots and tucking them under her arm wandered off saying:
‘After forty years together all he left me was his boots and they’re worn out.’