Abandoned: A Different Kind of Shoe Story

Have you ever seen a shoe on a street?  Just lying there, either perfectly intact or perhaps smooshed by passing traffic, but still noticeably a shoe, with no owner in sight.  Abandoned.

Every now and then I'll see a shoe on a road or a sidewalk and I can't help but wonder how it got there.  How do you lose a shoe?  My Hollywood-addled mind tends to race to the obvious: That the terrorised wearer was running away from a brutal assailant (hope they got away!) or that somewhere nearby is an out of breath CSI detective making an arrest on one foot. That's probably not what happened at all.  But still, my mind will stay with that shoe for longer than I should publicly admit.

To me, shoes on the street are infinitely intriguing.  Gloves are less intriguing since most of them are mine. Toys are the most depressing, because you know they involved tears.

One way or another, I am fascinated by the back-story of the abandoned.  Here are some examples:

This is an abandoned shoe, but I don't think a criminal element was involved.  Instead, I believe the wearer was running away from an enraged husband after he found out about her tennis pro.

Was the situation so frenetic that a panicked parent or ambulance whisked away the junior blader without turning back?  I remain hopeful that this wasn't the case, as there was no blood or teeth at the scene.
(I checked.  Thoroughly.)

What I thought was a tool box left by a careless labourer was actually snorkling gear.
In the middle of Paris.  Lost item or lost owner?

Babar!  Poor Babar. Note that Babar was dropped in-front of a window display
depicting a life-sized sado-masochistic bondage scene.  In Belgium.

Style File Followers Take Note:
1. Taking photos of abandoned items is a very cool hobby.
2. If you recognise any of the items pictured here as your own, good for you.
3. Based on the evidence, Brussels is not suitable for kids.