From The Pocket Muse, by Monica Wood: “Write a scene in which a pair of shoes figures prominently.”

“Here.”

I took the bag Nick shoved at me. “What’s this?”

“For you.” He buried his hands in his pockets, possibly to keep me from handing whatever was in the bag back.

I glanced around the parking lot to check for witnesses. “Is this going to get either of us in trouble?”

He shook his head and half-turned away. “Just open it, Lee.”

Nobody was looking. I opened the bag. It held a pair of black boots. I pulled one out and let it dangle by the laces, taking in the heavy sole, deep tread, the steel toe. The words Harley-Davidson and a distinctive logo pretty much constituted the only decoration.

The grommets and metal logo piece had been sprayed a flat black so they wouldn’t reflect light and stand out at night. Nick clearly had more experience at not getting caught sneaking around under cover of the darkness than I did. I wouldn’t have thought of covering up the shiny parts.

Nick spoke into the silence. “If you’re going to keep getting on a bike, you need boots. They’re more protection for your feet than sneakers, and steel toes are good if you have to kick…something.”

“Right.” Protection and defense in one. Very practical. Very telling. I was his accidental partner in crime, not his girlfriend. He might bring me a gun someday, and for a minute when he handed me the bag I thought he had, but he wouldn’t bring me flowers. I told myself it was for the best while I silently bent down and switched footgear. If I had to kick something, flowers would be no help. Those steel toes would do some damage, though. Nick was right about that.

I crumpled up the empty bag and shoved it in the pocket of my jeans jacket, tied my shoe laces together and slung my sneakers over my shoulder, and the two of us climbed onto the bike. The throaty rumble of the Harley made conversation impossible. We headed into the wind.

Your turn!