Shoes

A brutal day of inventory had big Tony on his feet for ten hours, all of it made worse by uncomfortable shoes. His feet were killing him. Going home, he crumpled into a seat on the southbound IRT, slipping his shoes off and in no time, falling asleep. A drunk across from Tony stared at the shoes as the train rumbled toward 14^th Street. When the doors opened he casually picked up the shoes and got off while Tony slept on, dreaming of clothes pins.