Poof!

It's not under the bed or behind the door or stuffed between the cushions of the loveseat.  It's not discreetly hidden beneath the computer desk or the nightstand.  It's not behind the shower curtain or under the bookcase
or tucked away in a crowded corner.  It's not underneath the pillows or secured behind a plant stand.

It must be somewhere, I tell myself reasonably.  Shoes don't simply get up and walk away on their own.

And yet, it hasn't been dragged behind the litter boxes or beneath the furniture.  It's not under the refrigerator or behind the curtains.  It's not waiting behind the tv or buried in the dirty clothes.  It's not in the chiffarobe and it's not behind any of the doors.

 Poof!  A single mesh tennis shoe vanishes without a trace.

 It's like life, I decide, sometimes the search isn't worth the reward.