A Spot for Lisa's Shoes

I noticed Lisa's muddy garden boots were tipped sideways near the screen door, drying with bits of grass stuck to their rubber soles. I picked them up by the heels and carried them across the lawn into the quiet tool shed. On the low wooden workbench, beside Dad's old metal oil can, there was just enough open space. I wiped a streak of dry soil off the wooden plank with my palm, then set both little red boots neatly upright side by side. It felt good to make sure they wouldn't get knocked over before tomorrow. A/N: I don’t know why Anzelm has a female voice.