At nine years old his feet swam in his Father's leather shoes. The scuff marks from working the railroad scarred the shoes and bits of mud still crusted the soles.
The shoes rested in the mud room with Steven's small boots. He pulled the strings tighter and carefully tied them. Steven walked a few steps imagining his Father's long, confident stride.
The boots were heavy with steel toes. He stopped at the coat rack and pulled the worn Carhartt jacket from its hook. Shrugging into the jacket, he pulled the snaps shut and felt the quiet assurance of his father as he stood alone in the room.
The jacket smelled like smoke and faintly of his Father's favorite cologne.
Steven closed his eyes and pictured his father, tall and squinting into the sun at sunrise as he strode with long steps to the truck parked by the garage.
Steven pulled the faded black hat from the shelf and set it on his head atop his own ruffled auburn curls.
Dressed as his father, he could almost hear the low whistled tunes his father would make as he made his way at dawn to the truck with a lunch box and thermos of steaming coffee Mother filled it with.
He remembered the sharp odor of black coffee still lingering in the kitchen after his Mother filled the thermos, leaving out a cup for his father to gulp before he left for the day.
Steven sighed and moved toward the door. The truck was still parked by the garage. It hadn't moved since last winter when the lineman parked it by his mother's sedan.
Steven carefully replaced the hat on the shelf and coat to the hook. Untying the boots he reverently set them side by side beneath the hanging coat.
Steven walked back into the kitchen. Sun was coming into the window and Mother sat quietly in the breakfast nook with an untouched cup of coffee. She glanced absently up at Steven and handed him a plate of eggs and toast.
He leaned in and kissed his mother's cool cheek. He wished he knew how to make her happy again, but for now he sat down and ate his eggs and dreamed of how it was like before the accident. One day he would see to it that she'd smile, but he didn't quite fit those shoes yet.
[SRC](https://pixabay.com/photos/hiking-shoes-children-s-shoes-3853326/
This is my five minute freewrite using prompt leather shoes.
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