Her shoes walked about at night. She could hear them pace through the house all night, yet by morning they always returned to their place by the door, waiting for her.
One morning she came down to find the shoes dirty. More than dirty—ruined. The once-white sneakers were caked with mud, scratched as if from underbrush. She went through the house and found the back door standing open.
That night she brought the shoes to her bedroom and set them down beside her bed. Closing the bedroom door, she settled in to sleep.
It wasn’t long before her shoes began to shuffle about, then pace the room. She rose and opened the door. The shoes hurried out; she followed close behind. Down the hall, the stairs, to the front door. The shoes shuffled about eagerly as she turned the latch, opened the door. They hurried out, but she hesitated at the threshold, her feet bare.
The shoes returned, organized themselves at her feet, waited. She slipped her feet inside. Before she could close the door behind her, the shoes had already carried her into the night.
The door stood open through the night, the morning, into the afternoon. It was only then that a neighbour came by. He poked his head inside, concerned. He pulled his head back, frightened.
There by the door were her shoes. They were ragged from their long walk. Torn, scratched by stones and underbrush, they sat there. Stained through and through with blood, they waited.
∼ Miriam H. Harrison
© Copyright Miriam H. Harrison. All Rights Reserved.
Pen of the Damned 
Oh my! what an ending… or is it?
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I knew my shoes were up to something.:-) Fun story!
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A great story with a chilling ending.
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Excellent piece, Miriam! Beautifully crafted and very imaginative! Bravo!! 😀 ❤
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Reblogged this on The Road to Nowhere… and commented:
Do you know what your shoes do at night? It sounds like the intro to a children’s tale, but it is anything but. The Long Walk is a piece of flash fiction crafted by the amazingly talented Miriam H. Harrison and currently available on PenoftheDamned.com – Enjoy the read!
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Well, Miriam — super story! Short and sweetly scary. I personally prefer stories where the worst is left to the reader’s imagination, as illustrated in this little tale.
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Also, does anyone remember the Bachman (S.King’s pseudonym) story by the same name? Different themes entirely, both excellent.
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I haven’t read that one! I will have to keep it in mind. Thanks for the suggestion, Marge, as well as the kind words!
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Creepy and evocative
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