The following is an excerpt from my short story "Save the Tiger":
It was around eleven in the morning when he realized his shoes didn’t match. Standing in the breakroom, having poured his cup full of rancid, tepid, but necessary coffee, Matt paused, leaned against the counter to take a sip. And there were his shoes. The right, hard-soled, the toes brought together in a sort of point, the leather shined. The left, still black, but the leather and soles soft, the stitching rough and casual.
He really should have noticed. Noticed when he put them on in the dark, when he walked to the car, and through the hours seated at his desk.
He blamed the girls. One of them, either Amy at five, or the older, Naomi at seven, had been playing in the closet and moved his shoes around. Yet there they were, the two shoes paired up, where he would have left the normal pair the previous night.
Still, he smiled. Not at the thought of one mischievously mismatching the shoes. Not at his own foolishness, absentmindedness that would have let him go through the whole morning in shoes that didn’t match. He smiled at the thought of his girls. All else could go wrong in the world, but it would all be okay in the company of Naomi and Amy.
He blamed the girls. One of them, either Amy at five, or the older, Naomi at seven, had been playing in the closet and moved his shoes around. Yet there they were, the two shoes paired up, where he would have left the normal pair the previous night.
Still, he smiled. Not at the thought of one mischievously mismatching the shoes. Not at his own foolishness, absentmindedness that would have let him go through the whole morning in shoes that didn’t match. He smiled at the thought of his girls. All else could go wrong in the world, but it would all be okay in the company of Naomi and Amy.
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