Its Socks by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

Its Socks

Page 54

Justice

"Threadbare Justice: The Case of Sock v. Drawer"

In the quiet folds of the laundry basket, Sock #47; known to his friends as Argyle, had always prided himself on his pedigree. Woven from Egyptian cotton, dyed in dignified hues of navy and burgundy, and stitched with the kind of geometric precision that whispered "boardroom" rather than "bedroom," Argyle was a sock of stature.

So when he was mistakenly sorted into the Underwear Drawer; a chaotic realm of elastic anarchy and cotton immodesty, he was appalled.

The drawer reeked of compromise. Boxer briefs lounged with indecent abandon. A thong, unapologetically flamboyant, greeted him with a wink and a snap. "Welcome to the jungle, sweetheart," it purred. It was archaic Weimar revisited.

"This is a travesty," Argyle muttered, recoiling from a pair of novelty briefs emblazoned with dancing tacos. "I belong with my kind. With order. With symmetry. Not ... salsa."

The trauma was immediate and profound. Argyle developed creases. His elasticity waned. He began to question his very purpose. Was