The Sock That Refused To Match
In the back corner of a cluttered drawer lived a sock named Elwick.
He was left, always left and forever unmatched.
Not because his twin had gone missing. Oh no, his match was right there, smug and compliant, curled up next to a pile of obedient argyles.
Elwick was different though, he just simply refused to comply with the dress code of life.
His twin was a respectable charcoal grey with conservative stripes, while Elwick had a defiant blaze of neon orange running diagonally across his heel like a comet scar, he was woven differently.
He itched in places socks weren’t supposed to itch and he buzzed under the moonlight.
The other socks gossiped and said nasty things about him:
Cursed yarn. Unravelled in the soul. One rib short of a full cuff.
Socks were notoriously cruel, so Elwick sat alone and defiant, refusing to pair.
Then one night, the Sock Oracle arrived. Not by invitation or a prophecy.
Not even a polite knock, he simply fell out of a wash pile, bringing with him a beautiful aroma of lavender and static electricity.
“You reek of rebellion,” said the Oracle as he began stuffing himself inside a Reebok classic for dramatic effect.
“Good… That means you’re almost ready.”
“Ready for what?” Elwick asked.
“To serve your true purpose,” the Oracle whispered back to him. “To be lost.”
Elwick didn’t find the Sock Oracle’s words very encouraging.
But the next morning Elwick was indeed lost, he’d fallen behind the radiator during a reshuffle of Y fronts, T-shirts and paired socks.
He lay there for seven days and nine and a half sockturns.
Dust settled and mites held conferences about the state of global economic affairs.
Then along came Milo, he was four and almost a half years old.
Curious, chaotic and convinced that under every radiator was a secret hidden kingdom. That day, he reached blindly under the radiator and pulled out Elwick, completely covered in dust bunnies.
“A fire sock!” Milo declared. “It’s a signal!”
From that moment on, Elwick became the flag of Milo’s adventures.
He was wrapped around pencils as spears, turned into a makeshift bandage for a wounded teddy bear and even worn on the outside of Milo’s school shoe “like a knight’s boot!” He proclaimed.
Every night, Milo tucked the sock beneath his pillow and whispered all of his secrets into his fabric(ated) friend.
“I’m scared of talking in class.”
“I think I saw a ghost in my Nana’s mirror.”
“I don’t like peas but pretend I do.”
Elwick listened, absorbed and transformed.
He was no longer just a sock. He was a vault, a talisman and a dream catcher.
Years later, long after Milo had outgrown stuffed bears and knight’s boots, Elwick remained in a box labelled: IMPORTANT THINGS!
He lay there, still buzzing faintly under the moonlight.
The Sock Oracle’s Message:
Sometimes you don’t fit the drawer you’re placed in.
Sometimes you itch in ways others don’t understand but trust this:
Your strangeness is a signal fire for someone else’s journey.
Stay unmatched… You’re not lost, you’re just waiting to be found!
Stay Weird
ЯYΛП MΣПƬIƧ
International Man of Mischief
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