This drabble was inspired by Ernest Hemmingway's six word flash fic For Sale: Baby Shoes, Never Worn. Like all flash fics, it tells a story on its own, but it could be expanded greatly - even to a novel. I've decided to expand it just to a drabble ---- High tops, white leather – its scent drifting to your nose – you run your fingers over the pebbled surface and laces point to the floor. As you study the impossibly tiny objects – how could a human’s foot ever be small enough to fit inside? – your face looks devoid of emotion, save for the twin trail of tears. Inside you rage and fight and scream at the injustice; cursing God and man and life and death and anything that could ever be blamed for stealing someone so precious. You don’t want to let go but you place them lovingly in the box.