Dead Mans Shoes

Harry has lived with us the entire eight years.
We did not know that agreeing to keep his shoes here was a big deal.
One day my husband said “I am throwing these oud!”
“We promised his widow!” I shrieked.
It was her one requirement when she sold us this house.

The next week was a nightmare.
I got carjacked. My husband lost his job.
One of our dogs got hit by a truck.
“It was those shoes!” I told my husband. 
“Get them back!”
We tried, but they were long gone.

Every week got worse and worse.
We separated, eventually divorced.
I remarried, and we tried to buy a house.
“That was Charlie’s hat,” the seller told us.
“Leave it in the closet, or….”
I ran out screaming.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2022

Poem

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Wolf Avatar
June 18, 2022 at 8:42 PM
Shoe-r wish you could have gotten those shoes back!
Lawless Avatar
June 17, 2022 at 1:01 PM
A nicely twisted ending there Caren. What size were the shoes???
Krutsinger Avatar
June 17, 2022 at 2:38 PM
Size 13
Hankins Avatar
June 17, 2022 at 11:00 AM
OMG...talk about omens or harbingers. I would have run out screaming, too. Don't take any chances, I say.
Krutsinger Avatar
June 17, 2022 at 2:39 PM
My daughter and her husband bought a house. The widow's husband's hat was in the closet. She asked them to keep it there and they did; it always unnerved me.
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