Flash Fiction

Utility

Stepping into the admirable house, the guest’s eyes gravitate toward the large and ornate mirror on the wall. Seeing her reflection, she takes a moment to preen. Among the numerous fineries and aesthetic knickknacks, she is immediately drawn to the impeccable Persian carpets. Her eyes reflexively rove over the shiny tiled floor. The guest scans for any flaws.

There isn’t the smallest scratch on the tiles. However, the guest spots a flash of white in a corner. Squinting, she makes out, barely in view, a pair of beat-up white sneakers. Inspected close up, these sneakers hardly qualify as white. They dirtied over the years and are more light brown than white.

The pair once served their wearer well, cushioning her youthful, pretty feet on rugged, gritty dirt and finer surfaces alike. She regularly fussed over them. They were with her when she met her first lover. They had been the finishing touch to her outfit every day. They had graced all kinds of terrain with their presence. Back in the day, these sneakers traversed all of Europe, parts of the Mediterranean, the Middle East, and Asia.

After countless years of activity, they were gradually used less and less often. They were then deemed worthless. Now, this faithful pair languishes and lays neglected, left to rot. Sprawled and out of sorts, their purpose no longer exists. What they wouldn’t give to be out and about. Their sole desire is to be brushed off, valued, and made useful to someone again!

These sneakers are far from making peace with their idleness. Staying inside for years, even in a pristine environment such as this house, their collective frustration accumulated over the years. The privilege of choice not being an option for these objects, they have no means to go anywhere and nowhere to go. Consequently, their unshakable sense of incompetence is unprecedented. There is no one to console them. Stuck with each other, they are alone in solitude.