“Na na na-na na!” The three children taunted, dangling Jared’s brand-spanking new green Converse Chuck Taylors from their blinding-white laces.

Jared, small for his age, sat crumpled in the street in his grey stockings, stripped of his sneakers and his dignity. Tears welled in the corners of his eyes, and spilled over.

“Awww,” cried the fat one. “Is wittle Jared-wared going to cry to his mommy-wommy?” He was the one holding the shoes.

Jared was angry, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew he’d lose a fight for sure, and he wasn’t looking for any broken bones.

“Lemme see those,” the short one said, trying to sound tough. He grabbed Jared’s shoes by their laces. He heaved them – one, two three- and then let them fly, up, and up and up, until they tangled around the telephone wires.

“Ha, ha! You’re never gonna get the-” the third bully began, but stopped abruply when there was an audible pffft! and the green shoes disappeared, laces and all.

No one knows where his shoes ended up.