Its Socks by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview
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Its Socks
Page 59
Socks Ethnocentric
“The Bleach Rebellion: A Sock Opera in Three Washer Cycles”
In the quiet folds of Drawer 7, nestled between a moth bitten scarf and a retired necktie named Reginald, lived a proud colony of White socks. They were pristine, cotton, aristocrats who believed in the sanctity of separation; especially from the anarchic, lint shedding black socks of Drawer 9.
Every laundry day, terror struck. The White socks would be scooped up and hurled into the Whirlpool of Doom alongside their sworn enemies, the black socks, who cackled in static charged defiance.
"We will not be bleached into oblivion!" cried Sir Argyle, a sock of noble ribbing and reinforced heel. "Our Whiteness is not a canvas for compromise!"