The rainfall came gradually, grey clouds sweeping over the horizon and darkening the sky. All around, the sound of pattering concrete steadily grew heavier and heavier, before it became a chorus of a thousand pellets. The gravel road quickly turned into sludge, with nowhere for the rainwater to go. Instead of seeking refuge, I tucked my chin in and continued forward. The fog from the mountains was just rolling in, shrouding the jagged structures flanking the street. It was not long before the rain settled down, receding into a drizzle, providing somber company as I aimlessly wandered. Given the homogeneity of the landscape, it was easy to become lost. Still, I navigated, turn after turn, making my way closer to the city centre, taking note of whatever landmarks I could discern. It felt strange to see the streets like this. Usually bustling with people, now hushed by the rain. Weaving around the rocks and puddles, I eventually came across a small alcove tucked and sheltered between two buildings. It was a shed-like structure roofed by a single sheet of metal. Memories rushed back like a flood breaking a sand wall. It was the only bit of these streets that retained some familiarity.
It was several years ago, perhaps seven years, when I last came across this shed. Then, as now, it was a dreary day. It was raining a fair bit harder, and I was without the desire to be out and about. However, having places I needed to be, I hastened through the downpour, wishing under my breath that I had an umbrella on hand. Despite this, I ran across a sight I just had to stop for; a little girl, squatting under the steel roof, leaning out into the rain with an old pair of shoes. She had a ragged piece of cloth in one hand, which was just as tattered as the dress she was wearing. Her tangled hair swung back and forth, her bare toes digging into the gravel, as she scrubbed both of the shoes at once, like she was scrubbing a kitchen sink. When I stopped, the girl briefly looked up without too much concern for what I was doing there.
“What do you have there?” I spoke in the local dialect.
“Shoes,” she replied simply.
“Are they yours?”
She nodded, saying nothing else. Given she didn’t seem to mind having a stranger around, I stayed, watching her. I’d forgotten the rain for a moment, the drip, drip, drip of droplets on the steel roof reminding me. I noticed the shoes were painted with dark splotches, areas which she spent a great deal of effort trying to scrub off to no avail.
“They are very big shoes,” I remarked.
The girl seemed to nod as she leaned to the side, trying to look at the pair from another angle. “They fall off whenever I run.”
I chuckled a bit. “It is surprising to me how you can walk without the shoes falling off.”
She did not laugh, but seemed very proud as she said, “I can wear them.”
A gust of wind flew by, bashing both of us with some heavy rain. I pulled my hood a bit further down, glancing down one end of the street at the miniature river that was forming. Despite having no jacket to cover her, the girl did not heed to the wind, only giving her head a small flick to part the hair from her face.
“Do you live here?”
“Yes.”
“Where are your parents?”
“She will be back soon.”
Her voice was so soft and monotonous, I could barely make it out in the rain. The more I watched her repeatedly scrub the boots, the more I pitied her. They were probably the only pair she had. A prideful possession, given how well she kept them, despite the rest of her surroundings.
“If you want, I can try and find a smaller pair of shoes to return with,” I offered.
However, the girl shook her head. “Momma won’t be happy if I lost them.”
“Ah.” With a nod, I conceded my offer. “I understand.”
We exchanged nothing more. I remembered I had somewhere to go, and although I was compelled to provide the girl some company, I felt I really must be on my way.
“I will leave, then,” I declared. “Don’t stay out too long. You’ll catch a cold.”
The girl simply nodded without giving me another glance.
Now, as I stepped under the roof and looked around inside the small metal shed, there was no trace that anyone ever lived here. Both the girl and her shoes were gone.