Cinderella's parking lot?

So every morning I drive to the train station to begin my long commute.

The commuter parking lot is huge. It wraps around a small strip mall. Rather than trudge through the commuter lot if you park at the very back of the commuter lot it's faster to take a shortcut through the shopping center.

There are three storefront restaurants here, selling pizza, Chinese and West Indian food. I suspect the neighborhood teens hang out here, since the parking lot is often littered with food containers and soda cans.

But there's something else . . .

One day last summer, as I was making my way to the train, I saw it. A green flip flop. Not a pair of flip flops, mind you. Just a single green sandal. It sat there for about a week, and then it was gone.

A few weeks later, I spotted a single sneaker.

Last week it was a high heeled pump, brown suede, with an ankle strap.

There's always one shoe, never a pair, and never another article of clothing.


And the shoe disappears after a few days.

If it's not some Cinderella fantasy being played out I have no idea what's going on.