Really, socks?

Socks, oh socks, why do you hate me?

I thought you would stay together forever. One of those pairs that would really go the distance, only separated briefly by the wash and dry cycle, and end your life together once one half of you lost its will to keep being stepped on and you’d make your way to the nearest bin.

You looked so happy, hanging there on the rack next to your fellow sock-buddys, ready to start your jobs as the protectors of feet, as I purchased you those months ago.

Why did you leave, left sock? What happened? Did you try counseling? And will you come back? Please. Now your partner has to go hang out with all the other singles, and as much as I try to pair two together its just not right, you know? You two were meant to be together, and nothing can replace that!

Oh, bugger it, next time I’m buying a ten-pack, so you can be swingers or have an orgy or something. I’m out!




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