The shoes I wear when the calls come in

Old ones. Scuffed, not broken yet. I’ve worn them through three winters and a burnout that didn’t make it to the report. They don’t creak like they used to. Today, I noticed how the sole’s thinning on the left — same side where I lean when I’m trying to stay calm. I thought about replacing them. Then remembered: the last time I did, the calls felt different. Like I was listening from outside. So I kept these. They know the weight of silence between breaths.