No one knew where his shoes ended up, except me.

“Scrumulus J. Caen” they said, written elegantly in the faux gold that rich people use to write things on their shoes.

He’d never get them back, I’d found them that day at the beach, and they were part of my collection now, one of my most cherished finds, actually.

I loved to find things with names on them, because names meant history, stories behind the people who left these things behind on the beach.

I had a small collection of shells, but I valued more the bags that people left with them in it. Bags that said things like “I heart America” , “Thank You for Shopping”, and even a dirty laundry bag from the local Holiday Inn. It was amusing what people used to collect their shells in, and then forgot them when they went to leave.

But those shoes of Scrumulus J. Caen would always be my favorite.