Stephen sat on the floor of his house, his one remaining shoe clenched against his chest. It was a good shoe. A reliable shoe. It served him well through the years.
It was pretty useless now, though. It lost it’s brother.
A little yellow man took it, just after landing its bright yellow spaceship in the living room. Flew in through the balcony doors. Little yellow man stepped out, chirped like a canary about loving the quality of the new bed, and then took off again, veering over the geraniums.
It sounded like bells.
Stephen thought of standing up. Of getting his gun in case they would be back. But he just sat there.
Bells. Bright yellow flashed and landed in front of his feet. Two little yellow men jumped out of the ship. They pulled at his shoe. He tried to hold it back, to no avail. They dragged the shoe into the ship, chattering about beds, and disappeared again.
He was shoe-less now. They were good shoes. Sensible shoes. Had been in the shop several times for repair, always came back, good as new.
He shuffled to balcony doors to close them and stopped when he felt something hard under his foot. He stepped back and leaned over. Two beads. Shiny yellow beads. He licked one. Metal. He held it next to the two wedding rings around his finger.
Gold. It was gold.
He laughed like a mad man would. He carefully pocketed the gold, shuffled to the bedroom as fast as his old legs could carry him, opened up his cabinet and pulled out a life’s worth of shoes. He shuffled to the living room with them, dropped them on the floor in front of the balcony.
The gold made a nice sound while he moved.