Humans logo

A Parade of Shoes

No Longer Invisible!

By Angie the Archivist šŸ“ššŸŖ¶Published 3 years ago • Updated 2 years ago • 2 min read
Top Story - February 2024
A Parade of Shoes
Photo by Apostolos Vamvouras on Unsplash

Shoes! So many shoes! Worn, black running shoes bounding past; shiny, red stilettos tap, tap tapping on by; white slides gliding along; steel toe caps clomping back in the opposite direction. Numbly I gaze at my feet… hunched over, my head a leaden kettlebell propped between my clammy hands… elbows resting on skinny knees.

A kaleidoscope of colours parade past, before my downcast eyes.

ā€œAre you okay young fella?ā€

I blink. Focus reluctantly returns. I blink again. Gnarled feet clad in open sandals are planted firmly in front of me. Silence.

My mind wanders… It’s been two long years since anyone thought I was young for a fifty-year-old. Back then… back when I was married! When I had a life; a family; a home; a job… even a car!

Now… now I have nothing… I am no one. I’m washed up on life’s desolate shore.

ā€œI asked, ā€˜Are you okay?ā€™ā€

Surprise washes over me. She can’t be talking to me! I’m invisible. Nobody sees me anymore. Time stretches across several heartbeats. Those sandals sure don’t seem to be going anywhere. Exerting a massive effort, I inch my head and eyes upwards.

There stands a petite granny… wearing a concerned frown, enveloped in a silvery halo of fluffy hair. I stare mutely. She contemplates me patiently, as if time is of no consequence.

My disused voice is barely a croak. I cough.

ā€œYeah,ā€ I mumble.

ā€œI’ve heard some rubbish in my time and that sure is rubbish!ā€ she fires straight back at me, with dizzying speed. My head spins… thought takes flight.

Unable to fend off such genuine concern, she completely disarms me. ā€˜Granny’ eases down onto the shopping centre bench, next to me. I’m vaguely surprised to find I feel neither threatened nor judged. It’s been an eternity since anyone has seen me, let alone spoken to me. Unbidden, forgotten tears spring to my eyes.

Her kindly face, gentle tone and searching eyes are my undoing. Somehow, this pint-sized granny has slipped behind my defences.

Before I realise it… I’m no longer even sure how… I find myself timidly following her into a large hall full of people, gathered around a veritable feast. Happy faces; laughing voices; scrumptious aromas wafting around me. My angelic acquaintance eases me towards the group gathered around the table… smiling reassuringly.

Utter disbelief floods my being! Why would strangers care; help or bother?

My heart flutters… beating more rapidly now… hope balloons within me. Sure, it’s just one meal and a night off the frigid, dank streets… the promise of a miniscule measure of security.

My worn, grubby shoes shuffle forwards… towards the table and welcoming people… towards a brighter future. The next chapter of my life.

*

Inspired by a Talk-Back chat on commercial radio, as I travelled to work. A man told a similar story, where an elderly lady took him along to a winter shelter run by the charity group, Lifeline in conjunction with local churches. Each church hosts homeless folks one night weekly, to keep them off the streets. Support workers assist with reconnecting them with life and society.

This one encounter transformed this man’s life. It brought tears to my eyes.

humanityfact or fictionfamilyfriendship

About the Creator

Angie the Archivist šŸ“ššŸŖ¶

Labradorā€˜s personalityšŸ•ā€šŸ¦ŗā€¦ attention span of a gnat! šŸ™ƒ

Top Stories: Race Against Time; Elusive Parkrun; Painting Pandemonium;

Her Majesty Mia; A Dart at Dusk; Sublime Rhyme;

The Quandry; Shadow of You; Not My Wake; Sauerkraut

Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.

Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed.

Subscribe For Free

Reader insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment
    Written by Angie the Archivist šŸ“ššŸŖ¶