Lost Shoes – Flash Fiction – Speakeasy #150

Lost Shoes

“What are those?” asked Ginger perplexed.

“Well, they look like shoes to me…never seen any ’til now?” replied Margot sarcastically.

“Sure, I meant what are they doing here?  They’re not new of course, but they’re not something I’d throw away.”

“Who knows and who cares.  You’re not thinking of taking them are you…I mean, yuck, someone’s shoes.  Could have had athlete’s foot or anything!”

“No, I’m just curious, that’s all.  I mean who’d leave their shoes on someone’s door step?”

“Maybe she thought she was in a hotel and wanted them to be cleaned!”

Ginger pulled out her cell phone and took a few pictures of the shoes.

“Whatever are you going to do with those photographs?” Margot wanted to know.

“Well, I thought I’d write about them on my evening “Just a Note” for the newspaper.  You know, special interest!”

“Ginger, special interest is about lost dogs and cats and stuff like that, not about someone’s lost shoes!”

“Still, it is curious don’t you think?”

“No, they’re just lost shoes!” Margot wailed “What could be so special about a pair of old shoes sitting on a door step! Maybe she left them in her boyfriend’s car and he dropped them off.”

“Oh no, no one lives there don’t you know?  That place has been abandoned for over 50 years!”

They reached Ginger’s house and she greeted her friend with a cheery wave.  They made an appointment for the next afternoon to have tea and then Ginger ran up her stairs into the house and straight to her computer.  An hour later she posted her article just in time for it to be printed.

The next morning two policemen knocked on her door.

“Miss Ginger Aimes?  We’re from homicide, may we come in?” said the shorter of the policemen.

“Sure, what’s up.”

“It’s about those shoes in your article this morning.  Seems they belonged to the latest victim of a serial killer.  He always leaves his victim’s shoes on or near where he’s hidden his victim’s body.  Where did you find them?”

“Well, just down the road, on the doorstep of an old abandoned house!” She was almost breathless with shock.”

“You’re a journalist right…haven’t you ever heard about this guy?”

“Well, no.”

“Could you show us where the shoes were?” the taller policeman asked her, speaking for the first time.

“Sure, just a minute, I’ve got to get my coat!”

The two men smiled at each other, “Margot will be in stitches when she hears how well her joke’s gone off!” said the tall fellow.

“Yeah, kind of feel sorry for her friend though, I think we should tell her the truth.”

“Yeah, we will.  After we go and look at the scene of the crime!” he winked.

Ginger came to the door, ready to show the policemen where the shoes had been. She waited for someone to tell her what to do next.

Written for Speakeasy # 150

This week there was a really cool video attached to the prompt which I’d like to share with you: