The lonely sock

Steve had been with Cindy for as long as he could remember, they were the perfect couple, a matching pair of size ten black socks with the finest of navy blue stripes.

They went everywhere together.

Their owner wore them more than any other socks and always took them with him when he travelled the world, dangling them from a makeshift washing line overlooking the Danube, getting them mud-wet walking the Fens and then there was that trip to Norway. It was so cold that their owner made them double-up with another pair of socks. Steve found it strange being that intimate with a sock that wasn't Cindy, though they never talked about it.

Then one day Cindy disappeared. He was taken out of the dryer but Cindy was nowhere to be seen.

His owner tried to help, he searched the dryer, the washing machine, the laundry basket and every room in the house. Cindy was nowhere to be seen. He even left a yellow post-it note on Steve saying ‘Have you seen my friend?’. He left it on his girlfriend’s side of the bed, as he thought it was her who’d mislaid Cindy. Steve heard him confront her that night, accusing her of borrowing his socks then dispensing of them carelessly, not in the laundry basket. She denied all knowledge of Cindy and told him there were more important things in the world than missing socks. It became something of a shouting match.

Steve missed Cindy dreadfully. He tried looking for her online at www.lostsock.com, but she wasn’t there. He added his photo, in case she ever tried to get in touch, but he knew it was a pointless gesture, she knew where he lived.

It was a lonely life, especially as without his partner he no longer had work. The other socks complained that they now had to do more than their fair share of foot-cladding duties, though he protested it wasn’t his fault.

With time it became more bearable. He no longer woke up looking for her and began to enjoy the days at the end of the week when he had the sock drawer to himself. Eventually he was ready to move on and tentatively he joined the sock dating site: www.lonelysocks.co.uk.

He saw many socks on the site that were perfect matches, but though they looked just like Cindy he wasn’t interested, because they weren’t Cindy. They hadn’t been through the same washes that he had, faded in exactly the same places, had the same sand shaken out of them on Southend Pier. They were like Cindy, but completely different.

Then one day Steve logged on and found his attention caught by a bright pink sock on the front page. Pinkie, her name was. He knew it was crazy but he got in touch. They emailed each other a few times and agreed to meet up. She only live round the corner from him.

It was great fun being in company again, and after meeting up a few times Pinkie ended up staying over in his sock drawer. It was a life changing experience, they bonded perfectly and both agreed next morning that they would share the same sock drawer forever. Overnight, without intending to, they had become a pair.

Steve’s owner was surprised to find Steve and Pinkie intertwined together. “I hope you’re not expecting me to wear you,” he said.

This hurt Steve more than he thought it could. After all, who wants to be wrapped around a stinking foot all day way he could be at home wrapped around the lovely Pinkie. Still, he felt rejected, spurned by someone he thought he could rely on.

Every day for over a month Steve’s owner would open the sock drawer and say “not you,” casing them aside and shaming them in front of all the other socks.

Then one day, towards the end of the week when they were the last socks left, he opened the drawer and said “Oh dear. I guess I’m going to have to wear you after all.”

His girlfriend laughed when she saw them on his feet. “You can’t wear those she said, one’s bright pink and the others mostly black.”

“Why not?”, he said, “I think they look lovely together.”

“I love you, you silly odd-socked man,” she said, and they kissed passionately.

At that precise moment, Steve and Pinkie were the happiest pair of socks in the whole wide world.