Sunday Scribblings, "New"

The prompt over at Sunday Scribblings is “new.”

Kicks
His formative years were spent in hand-me-down clothing, cast-offs, shoes plucked from bins and attached together with plastic threads, making trying them on for size almost impossible.
Black canvas shoes, white rubber tips. Never the high-tops he shed tears for, never “real” Chuck Taylors, Keds or even P.F. Flyers with the action wedge built right in to each heel.
He worked hard, scrimped, saved.
And then the day came. The trip to a shoe store, a true fitting with a metal sizer, boxes filled with crinkly white tissue, pristine shoes.
So many to choose from, such exotic names, names of animals.
In the end, he chose the white leather ones with waffle soles and the red “swoosh.”
The salesman asked if he wanted to wear them out of the store. The kid beamed a smile.
And as he walked past a street corner trash bin, he dumped out the pair of frayed black canvas sneakers, the white tissue. He carefully put the lid back on the shoebox, clutched it to his chest – and watched his feet move across the concrete.