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 © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2022
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