Image: August MorgueFIle 2018 1415390688o66bl

It was all there was left.

A pair of shoes size seven.

Why leave his shoes behind was a puzzle for us all. After all, it was thought he valued life and his shoes in particular.

But no he left them behind, sitting there on the jetty, the water lapping the supports below, the shoes placed as if he had just stepped out of them.

It was a funny place, was Morgue. Odd things happened there. So when your town is called Morgue it does suggest the possibility of the odd, doesn’t it?

It was a few days later when they found him. Shoeless and hungry behind the Morgue Theatre. He had no memory of losing his shoes and less memory of how he got where he was.

He was bundled into an ambulance and whisked off to the hospital. His family were notified, and some expressed disappointment that he had been found. They had an eye on his life insurance as it turned out.

He recovered but never wore those shoes again. He claimed they were bad luck.

He has new shoes now and is doing well, that is apart from the looks his relatives give him.

Written for: https://flashfictionforthepracticalpractitioner.wordpress.com/2018/10/09/flash-fiction-for-the-purposeful-practitioner-2018-week-41/