Rashad Cannon

Shoes Worn Enough to Talk God to Jesus

Jey lifted his mask and took long drag off his vape pen one foot pushed against the corner store wall behind him like a kick stand. His curly hair and beautiful skin complimented his short stature and slim frame; he wasn't like need-a-sandwich skinny but more of a cool thin like Whiz Khalifa or Travis Barker. Nevertheless, if you ever met him it felt like he was ten feet tall. He spent the last several days hanging out in front of a corner store at a strip mall in the city, people watching the patrons and passerby’s; but he only kept returning in hopes of bumping into a local man who went by the name of Shoes. They met about a week ago, but they engaged in deep conversations like they have known each other a lifetime. If he had not met Shoes he probably would have left as abruptly as he came feeling like there was nothing here for him. Jey leaned over and dug into his backpack sitting at his feet and pulled out his little black book he carried everywhere; he sometimes jotted notes when he and Shoes talked.