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  • Jameel Haiat

Little White Sock

Sometimes the little white sock just couldn’t fucking take it anymore.


Oh sure, his owner was ok…and that was being incredibly gracious.


Like most sock Owners, his Owner didn’t care about the well being of his socks. Sure, at least he didn’t keep him in the dark dank drawer as much as some of the other colors, especially the argyle couple. He really felt bad for them. That was the kiss of death for sure. Not being able to see any light at all, not being able to breath fresh air, even if for just one moment...that was a true horror.

So, at least the little white sock got out.


But, there were days when he wanted to scream. He wanted to tell his Owner to fuck off, to say he had feelings too. He wanted to explain what it meant to be a working sock in the world today. After all, it was hard being a sock. So damn hard. Having to go to work on hot sweaty days, no respite from the humidity. Having to work while drenched and soaked with his Owners wet smell was beyond belief. God, the days when his Owner would have basketball practice or run were almost unbearable. Truly they were. Ugh.


Sometimes he would hide. When he was completely done with it all, and just wanted to curl up and die, he would sneak off and crawl inside the large white duvet while they were both tumbling about in the dryer. He would stay there, so still and quiet, until they were both completely dry, clinging to the duvets luxuriously soft inner skin. It was one of the few things that made the sock laugh. Sometimes, he could hide inside that duvet for weeks and not be found. It was one of his few joys in life.


There were other times when his Owner wouldn’t care about separating him from his partner. He would throw him in one corner, his partner in the other, keeping them separated for days on end. Why couldn’t he at least keep them together? Come on! Those were incredibly lonely and long days indeed.


Having to put up working day in and day out without a bath, feeling sticky, dirty, used and like shit, was inhumane. His Owner sometimes wouldn’t wash him for weeks, fuck. Who does that? He felt so disrespected at times.


It was slavery. That’s exactly what he felt like today. He felt like a mindless slave to his Owner.


But, as he thought all of this, as his emotions ran wild within the confines of the sock drawer, he saw a glimmer of light peek in. The light loomed larger and larger as he now gazed upon his Owners face, and realized, once again, he’s reaching for me. Me!

The last thought he had before his Owner picked him once again was…I guess he really does love me…after all.


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