The Knocking of Embroidered Shoes

A nameless wave of revulsion and fear surged through me. A moment ago, I’d treated it like a treasure. Now it just seemed deeply sinister. I could even smell a faint, almost imperceptible stench, like raw meat left out for a long time.

I quickly wrapped the piece of finger bone in paper and tossed it in the trash, telling myself over and over not to let my imagination run wild. Maybe it was a small animal’s bone, from a cat or a dog that had crawled into the shoe and died.