Your post title reminds me of a story I read as a spratling, of which naturally I recall everything but the title or the author or where I read it - an anthology, but this sounds like it came from Weird Tales.
The viewpoint character - in effect - was that staple of the day, the blind newsstand vendor. (Pun intended.) As usual, he’d made hearing serve as a thalidomide child used his feet, i e better than you’d believe. He knew his customers by their footsteps, and knew exactly what you were doing as you stood there.
Anyway, a man comes along with a distressed exhausted pace, and greets him - why, it’s that archaeologist fellow, went off to Egypt some months ago. Yah, well, he opened the wrong tomb and released its guardian, who had begun tracking him down relentlessly. Invisible, the thing, but it walked ever towards him with a mummy’s scuffing footstep, like carpet slippers. It could smash through any obstacle; he managed to escape and fled… and it came after him at walking speed - a very slow cruise missile with unlimited range. Car, train, boat, plane, only bought time - and they cost money, which he’d run out of. He could never stop, for it never did - invisibly walking towards him. He was at the end of his tether! - and despairingly he fled, flailing down the street.
The vendor shook his head - New York is chock full o’ nuts and this guy must have spent too long in that sun! Oh, well, back to business, here came another customer… "Newspaper, mister?"
This was an odd one, though - why on earth would anyone be walking around midtown Manhattan in carpet slippers…?
There was no answer - and he didn’t speak again. He just sat quietly - oh, very quietly, listening with his trained hearing to that soft sound amid the traffic noises, that soft scuffing sound going past without slowing, patiently, relentlessly following…
Re: Feet scuffing along the pavement
Your post title reminds me of a story I read as a spratling, of which naturally I recall everything but the title or the author or where I read it - an anthology, but this sounds like it came from Weird Tales.
The viewpoint character - in effect - was that staple of the day, the blind newsstand vendor. (Pun intended.) As usual, he’d made hearing serve as a thalidomide child used his feet, i e better than you’d believe. He knew his customers by their footsteps, and knew exactly what you were doing as you stood there.
Anyway, a man comes along with a distressed exhausted pace, and greets him - why, it’s that archaeologist fellow, went off to Egypt some months ago. Yah, well, he opened the wrong tomb and released its guardian, who had begun tracking him down relentlessly. Invisible, the thing, but it walked ever towards him with a mummy’s scuffing footstep, like carpet slippers. It could smash through any obstacle; he managed to escape and fled… and it came after him at walking speed - a very slow cruise missile with unlimited range. Car, train, boat, plane, only bought time - and they cost money, which he’d run out of. He could never stop, for it never did - invisibly walking towards him. He was at the end of his tether! - and despairingly he fled, flailing down the street.
The vendor shook his head - New York is chock full o’ nuts and this guy must have spent too long in that sun! Oh, well, back to business, here came another customer… "Newspaper, mister?"
This was an odd one, though - why on earth would anyone be walking around midtown Manhattan in carpet slippers…?
There was no answer - and he didn’t speak again. He just sat quietly - oh, very quietly, listening with his trained hearing to that soft sound amid the traffic noises, that soft scuffing sound going past without slowing, patiently, relentlessly following…