She left her shoes: she took everything else--her toothbrush, her clothes, and even that stupid little silver vase on the table we kept candy in. Just dumped it out on the table and took the vase. The tiny apartment we shared seemed different now:her stuff was gone. It wasn’t much really, although now the room seemed like a jigsaw puzzle with a few pieces missing incomplete. The closet seemed empty too most of it was her stuff anyway. But there they were at the bottom, piled up like they usually were ,every single one of them,Why did she leave her shoes?She could have forgotten them, I knew too well that she took great pride in her shoe collection, but there they still were, right down to her favorite pair of sandals.They were black with a design etched into the wide band that stretched across the top of them,the soles scuffed and worn,a delicate imprint of where her toes rested was visible in the soft fabric.

她把鞋子留在這里，其他的她統統都帶走了，—包括她的牙刷，她的衣服，甚至我們擺放在桌子上裝糖果的銀色的小瓶子，她直接把糖果倒在桌子上，然后把瓶子拿走了。這個二人世界的小蝸居看去已經和以前不大一樣了，屬于她的東西雖然不是很多，可都給搬得十十凈凈，這間房子現在就如同一副殘缺的拼圖，不再像以前那樣完整衣柜也變得空空如也，里面的東西本來都是她的。然而就在衣柜的底層，也像往常一樣堆積在那里的是她的留下來的鞋子，一只也不少，她為什么要把鞋子留下來呢?她絕對不可能是忘拿，我知道她向來很寶貝她的鞋子。可是，這些鞋子真的就躺在那里，還包括那雙黑色的涼鞋，她的至愛涼鞋—寬寬的鞋面，上面還鏤刻有花紋，鞋底已經磨損破舊，她的腳趾印還依稀可見.

It seemed funny to me she walkcd out of my life without her shoes. Is that irony or am thinking of something else? In a way I was glad they were still here, she would have to come back for them, right?I mean how could she go on with the rest of her life without her shoes? But she’s not coming back,I know she isn’t. she would rather walk barefoot over glass than have to see me all of her shoes! All of them. every sneaker, boot and sandal, every high heel and clog, every flip-Ilop.What do I do? Do I leave them here or bag them up and throw thorn in the a trash? Do I look at them every morning when I get dressed and wonder by she left them? She knew it" she knows what she"s doing. I can’t throw them out for fear she may return for them today. I can’t be rid of myself of her completely with all her shoes still in my life, can’t dispose of them or the person that walked in them.

這可真讓我百思不得其解，她既然選擇離開，卻又不帶走她的鞋子，這是一種諷刺嗎?還是我想歪?從某種角度說，我又暗自高興，鞋子既然給留下來了，那么她總有一天會回來拿的，對嗎?我是說沒了這些鞋子，她以后日子怎么過啊?可是，她不會再回來了，我知道她不會的，她寧愿光腳踩玻璃也不愿意回來看我的可是，老天!她怎么就把鞋子給留下來呢?所有的鞋，包括個部的球鞋、靴子、涼鞋、高跟鞋、木屐、人字拖……我該怎么辦呢，讓它們放在這兒，還是打包扔掉?我是不是要每天打開衣柜就看見它們，然后冥思苦想她留下鞋子的目的呢?她一定是有意這樣做的，她很清楚自己在做什么。這些鞋子我不能扔掉，因為我怕有一天她會回來拿，她的鞋就這樣留在我的生命里，徹底擺脫對她的思戀是不可能的，無論是鞋子還是它們的主人我都無法舍棄.

Her shoes left deep foot print up my heart, and I can’t sweep it away.All I can do is stare at them and wonder, stare at their laces and straps, their buttons and tread.They still connect me to her though, in come distant bizarre way.I can’t remember the good times we had,which pair she was wearing at that moment in time.They are hers and no one else’s.She wore down the heels,and she scuffed their sides, it’s her fragile footpaint imbedded on the insole .I sit on the floor next to them and wonder how many places had she gone while wearing,these shots, how many miles had she walked in them, which pair was she wearing when she decided to leave me? I pick up a high heel she often wore and absently smell it.I don’t think it is disgusting.It’s just the last tangible link I have to her, the last bit of reality I have of her. She left her shoes; she took everything else except her shots.They remain at the bottom of my closet, a shrine to her memory.

她的鞋子在我心中留下的深印實在難以撫平，我只能癡癡地看著她的鞋帶，然后傻傻地把鞋扣系好這些鞋子將我和她連在一起，雖然方式是那樣滑稽可笑。回想起和她在-起的快樂時光，想著她在那時那刻穿著哪雙鞋，鞋子是她的，不是另外人的，鞋跟磨短了，鞋邊磨破廠，鞋內是她的纖纖足印。我席地坐在她的鞋子旁邊，想著她穿著這些鞋子到過的地方，走了多少地方，走多少路?她最后下定決心要離開我時穿的又是哪雙鞋呢?我拿起了一只她時常穿的高跟鞋，心不在焉的嗅一下，我一點也不覺得惡心，因為屬于她而實實在在的能讓我擁有的就只剩那氣了，這也是回憶以外留給我的最后一線真實存在她把鞋子遺留在這兒，其余一切都帶走了，除了鞋子之外它們躺在衣柜的底層，那個屬于她的，屬回憶的神圣角落。