Lost soles.

Two pairs of my sneakers were stolen from my hallway. I didn't lock them up in a closet; I left them out in the open, in the hallway, on the way in and out of my apartment. One shoe has paint on it from Day of Caring, a sentimental scar. One pair was finally broken in to perfectly fit my ugly feet. They were both cheap, and used, and mine. I'm sad to not have the sneakers anymore, sad that I can't leave my shoes in the hallway anymore, and sad because I would have given the shoes to the person who wanted them had he or she asked. Then I could feel good. Now I don't. I miss my shoes. I hope they are just lost.