Its Socks by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

Its Socks

Page 84

Threadbare Reunion

After a heavenly hiatus somewhere, they were born together in a humming textile mill in North Carolina; two pristine White socks, identical in weave, spirit, and ambition. Their names were Moody and Gypsy. Moody, the male, had a slight curve in his ribbing. Gypsy, the female, had a faint fleck of lint that never quite brushed off. But they were a matched pair, inseparable in the packaging, dreaming of warm feet and long walks.

Their life began on a shelf in aisle 9 of Bargain Bonanza, nestled between novelty boxers and discount flip-flops. They whispered to each other through the plastic, imagining the life they'd lead once chosen; a cozy drawer, a loyal owner, maybe a few daring laundry adventures.

But fate, as it often does, unraveled their plans.

Enter Jaheem, a petty thief and amateur theologian with the stealth of a foghorn and the moral compass of a broken Roomba. Jaheem had a scheme; he’d steal one sock from every pack and sell them as “solo statement pieces” to avant-garde fashionistas. He believed mismatched socks were the future. He also believed mayonnaise was a beverage.