FROM DOC’S LOON FABLES 4
The Angular Sock
While the other socks were gossiping in the hamper, the angular sock eased under a pillowcase and brooded. No one liked her, not even her partner. The angular sock listened while her partner jibbered to the others about the angular sock’s shortcomings. Her stripe was flawed. Her toe had that awful angle. On and on. How Hetty, their mistress, had flung the angular sock against the wall before flouncing from the room.
“They’ll be sorry,” muttered the angular sock.
For you see, she was planning her escape. All through the thrilling swim and dizzying spin in the washer, she kept silent while the other socks laughed and frolicked, playing tumble games with the underwear. When the mounds were lifted giggling and deposited in the dryer, the angular sock remained alert and sober, waiting for her chance. Metallic click, hum and roll, comforting heat. The angular sock leapt with hope to the barely discernable slot at the back of the turning cylinder. She hooked on, hanging, and struggled to squeeze through. SUCCESS!
Blue skies! Rolling meadows! Romping socks! She was there! And they welcomed her! Everyone of ‘em! Ripped, threadbare, with holes or whole, they welcomed her! And she joined the romp!
Moral: Follow your dreams even if you are angular.
#
Leave a Reply