It was a particularly breezy autumn day in early November when Willow walked along the familiar streets of her neighborhood, taking in the woody scent of falling leaves. Her dog, Rosie, dug through the piles of leaves, as her shoes made a satisfying crunch every time Willow stepped on the golden leaves and the occasional candy wrapper leftover from Halloween.
Willow rarely took walks anymore, but her mother insisted on spending “quality bonding time” with the dog. She had also only gotten their poodle Rosie under the condition that Willow would be responsible for walking her.
Willow used to take walks, go on runs, and excel in athletics. Unfortunately, her close friend Violet passed away three years ago. Since then, she never walked around her neighborhood to avoid passing her house, and after losing her only friend in soccer, she slowly lost interest in sports as well. Willow was never truly able to move on from the loss of her dear friend. She barely got along, and while she did make other friends nothing was ever the same.
Willow didn’t want to turn the bend because she knew it was the way to Violet’s house. Her old house, anyway. Violet’s family had moved away shortly after her death, unable to live in a town full of her presence. She made an abrupt stop and tried to turn around, pricking her hand on a thorn bush and dropping Rosie’s leash. Realizing this was her singular moment of emancipation, Rosie began sprinting down the block, straight towards Violet’s old house.
Willow began sprinting after Rosie, feeling the wind cut her face and trying not to lose sight of her dog. However, Rosie was small and clever and a master at evasion. She dove under bushes, making it almost impossible for Willow to follow.
After running for what felt like an eternity, Willow finally stopped to catch her breath. As her breathing calmed down and she slowly looked up, she was only a few houses away from Violet’s. From a distance, she spotted a pair of green Converse shoes hanging from the powerline. Violet’s favorite pair that Willow had gotten her for Christmas.
Sighing, Willow forced herself to take a few gingerly steps past Violet’s house and towards the powerlines. She tried her best not to remember the good times that they shared, for it was now all clouded with a sense of bittersweetness. As she approached the powerlines, she remembered her mother telling her that Violet’s parents put up her shoes so that when her spirit returned, she could walk up high in the heavens.
But Willow didn’t want Violet to take walks up in heaven. She wanted Violet to be back with her, taking walks on the weekends around the neighborhood. Just as she stood right under those familiar pair of worn-out shoes, the wind howled and the shoelaces snapped, falling in a bush only a few feet away from Violet.
Carefully separating the orange leaves, Willow took a closer look at those shoes. They were so old, dirty, and had holes on the sides. The once snow-white laces were tinted a tired shade of greyish brown, and there were specks of mud splattered all over. Willow just sat there and stared, unsure of what to think or feel.
Through the bushes, Rosie suddenly peaked her tiny head out and ran back into Willow’s arms, licking the tears off her face that Willow didn’t even notice were there. As Willow picked up Rosie’s leash and walked home, she was glad that Violet’s shoes were back on the ground. This meant that when Violet returns, her spirit will still be with Willow walking on earth. Maybe Violet really is here with Willow, even now.
Willow rarely took walks anymore, but her mother insisted on spending “quality bonding time” with the dog. She had also only gotten their poodle Rosie under the condition that Willow would be responsible for walking her.
Willow used to take walks, go on runs, and excel in athletics. Unfortunately, her close friend Violet passed away three years ago. Since then, she never walked around her neighborhood to avoid passing her house, and after losing her only friend in soccer, she slowly lost interest in sports as well. Willow was never truly able to move on from the loss of her dear friend. She barely got along, and while she did make other friends nothing was ever the same.
Willow didn’t want to turn the bend because she knew it was the way to Violet’s house. Her old house, anyway. Violet’s family had moved away shortly after her death, unable to live in a town full of her presence. She made an abrupt stop and tried to turn around, pricking her hand on a thorn bush and dropping Rosie’s leash. Realizing this was her singular moment of emancipation, Rosie began sprinting down the block, straight towards Violet’s old house.
Willow began sprinting after Rosie, feeling the wind cut her face and trying not to lose sight of her dog. However, Rosie was small and clever and a master at evasion. She dove under bushes, making it almost impossible for Willow to follow.
After running for what felt like an eternity, Willow finally stopped to catch her breath. As her breathing calmed down and she slowly looked up, she was only a few houses away from Violet’s. From a distance, she spotted a pair of green Converse shoes hanging from the powerline. Violet’s favorite pair that Willow had gotten her for Christmas.
Sighing, Willow forced herself to take a few gingerly steps past Violet’s house and towards the powerlines. She tried her best not to remember the good times that they shared, for it was now all clouded with a sense of bittersweetness. As she approached the powerlines, she remembered her mother telling her that Violet’s parents put up her shoes so that when her spirit returned, she could walk up high in the heavens.
But Willow didn’t want Violet to take walks up in heaven. She wanted Violet to be back with her, taking walks on the weekends around the neighborhood. Just as she stood right under those familiar pair of worn-out shoes, the wind howled and the shoelaces snapped, falling in a bush only a few feet away from Violet.
Carefully separating the orange leaves, Willow took a closer look at those shoes. They were so old, dirty, and had holes on the sides. The once snow-white laces were tinted a tired shade of greyish brown, and there were specks of mud splattered all over. Willow just sat there and stared, unsure of what to think or feel.
Through the bushes, Rosie suddenly peaked her tiny head out and ran back into Willow’s arms, licking the tears off her face that Willow didn’t even notice were there. As Willow picked up Rosie’s leash and walked home, she was glad that Violet’s shoes were back on the ground. This meant that when Violet returns, her spirit will still be with Willow walking on earth. Maybe Violet really is here with Willow, even now.
