Unattended

 

Every other day he would spend a good half hour polishing his shoes.  He would brush them clean, wipe them with a clean, dry cloth, and then meticulously apply the polish.  They always looked perfect when he was done, except for the heals.  He never did the backs of his shoes because he never saw them when he looked down.  It was just the way he was.

His shop on Main Street was the same way.  He paid a local company to wash the storefront windows once a week.  He had an expensive front door installed when he first purchased the place and paid a professional to paint the lettering on the entrance.  He even handpicked a sparkling glass doorknob.  He felt it gave an old-fashioned look to the place, like it had been there for years.

You could see him out front in the early hours, sweeping the sidewalk and checking for litter.  Then he would stand out in the street and just smile at his storefront.  It was always perfect, at least the part he saw.  Anyone who wasn’t lucky enough to get one of the few parking spots had to park along the side streets and walk back to Main.  That’s when the heal of his shoe became visible.  The back of his shop that he always left unattended.