Baby Shoes

Ernest Hemingway, in response to a $20 bet (a fairly large sum at the time), said he could write a six word short story that could make anyone cry. He wrote:

"For sale: baby shoes. Never worn."

His friends paid him without protest.

Below is an expansion of the meaning behind his story as I saw it.

XoxoxoX

I awoke with a start. The room was dark and I shuddered beneath the heavy covers as I reached for the warm body and comfort of my husband. My hand met nothing but empty sheets as it slid along the mattress. Another shiver ran down my spine.

There was a deep ache in my body as I sat up in bed and struggled into the pants I'd discarded earlier. I didn't have to go far to find him, because I knew exactly where he would go, though it did take me longer than I thought to shuffle from our bedroom to the next room down the hall. It was illuminated by a single street light which filtered through the small window, casting an eerie, yellow glow on everything it touched. My husband sat so still I could hardly see the outline of his form in the shadowy corner where he was bent over. There was something in his hand that he held with gentle care and even though I couldn't see what it was I knew all the same.

"Ichigo." I said and he sat up abruptly from where his elbows had been resting on his knees.

The chair he sat in moved in concert with his motion and his hand clenched around the small, blue baby booty that his father had given us as a gift. I remember the day that he'd presented them. Neither he nor my husband had said anything, but they didn't need to. Isshin's apologetic expression and Ichigo's relieved smile spoke volumes.

"You should come back to bed." My words sounded as empty as I felt.

With a sigh he pushed himself out of the chair, which rocked with the force, and started towards the doorway. As Ichigo walked passed the crib he brushed his hand along the smooth, cold wood of the top rail. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks and I realized with a jolt that the action had become a habit since we'd purchased it. My heart thudded quick and dull in my chest, but I bolted down the reaction and swallowed dryly as I stepped forward, reaching for his hand. Ichigo turned his back to me. Both hands gripped the crib tightly as he closed his eyes with a stuttered breath and the muscles of his bare back coiled beneath the tan skin.

I didn't try to take his hand again. Instead, I moved behind him and wrapped my arms around his body. He bristled under my touch, but I just held him closer and leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

"I miss him too." I confessed and it was the first time I'd said as much.

It should have sounded as ridiculous as I thought it would. How could it be possible to miss someone I had never and, now, would never meet? It was true, though, and I was surprised by how deeply admitting it effected me. My heart pounded harder and it seemed as though I couldn't breathe deeply enough. When I felt the tension drain from Ichigo's body, I knew that he noticed.

"I never thought she'd change her mind." His voice was heavy with profound pain. Even before the last word fell from his mouth, Ichigo's shoulders began to shake. "Byakuya." He said pleadingly.

I held him as tightly as I could in response. His chest heaved and his abdomen quivered beneath my hands as the first of many tears fell silently from his eyes. It took quite a lot for my husband to shed enough of his stubbornness and pride to cry, especially in front of me, and it was all I could do to reign in my own emotions. I gave a quick kiss to the side of his face and buried my nose just behind his jaw as I took a deep, steadying breath, letting his scent wash over me and his cropped, orange hair tickle my neck.

Family meant so much to him, more than it ever did to me. However, mine had never been as large, warm, close, and open as my husband's family was. Even when they fought it was with a level of passion that derived from love and concern. When he asked if I wanted to try adoption, I had secretly hoped he would show me what that was like.

XoxoxoX

A/N: As mentioned above, this work is inspired by the above short story "Baby Shoes" by Ernest Hemingway. It represents just how much you can convey both emotionally and content wise when you choose the right words. I hope you can see how much is going on in my own story. Other than the obvious, of course.

Now, I challenge you all to write a story less than 1,000 words based on Hemingway's short story (this one is 722 words long not counting authors notes and the title). Think about the message, how it makes you feel or what it makes you think of and tell a complete, compelling story. Choose your words very carefully. It can be told from any angle or point of view you wish and written in any style you wish so long as your message is successful. I know this is a small fandom, but I hope to get a few responses. If you wish to use a different fandom or pairing it doesn't matter to me, I'm just curious to see how many ways it can be interpreted.

Please PM me if/when you post it (or even if you just want to talk about it)! I want to see what everyone does.