Shoelaces

We hurried. Picked the body up. His shoe fell off. And we never found it. Shoelaces. Laced all the way through. Over and over. I shouldn’t have. Sitting oddly. Mannequin resting in my mind. His hat falls off. Nothing sits right. I wish we could have left him there. The ghastly remains. Like that shoe. I don’t think it had any blood on it. There was no blood. There was no warning. There was no anger. There was no shoe. One shoe was thrown off a cliff. One we left in the street. Which did they find? I guess it doesn’t matter.