Sock's Journey

It was impossible to see through the dense layers of blackness, but something continued to stir beyond the veil of my limited sight. Terrified of what was making the mysterious sounds, and having no way to defend myself, I did the only thing I could.

I quickly began to re-bury myself beneath the clumps of hair, and crumbs, that I just raced to remove. A protective wall of camouflage was my best chance at remaining undiscovered by the monsters that surely lived within.

Successfully coated in my disguise, I waited to hear the jingle from Ellie’s harness echo through the hallway. Unfortunately, it was summer, and it was a weekend, which meant they could be out for a very long time. I needed to be patient, and remain absolutely still until Ellie inevitably sniffed me out.

Seconds turned into minutes, which turned into hours. I couldn’t see any of the numerous clocks around the condo, but the shadows from the sun slowly shifted up the east wall indicating that it was no longer morning. We lived in the heart of Boston, and we were surrounded by dog parks. There was no telling when they would return.

The shuffling sounded again. Except this time it was closer. Close enough that I could feel the tickle of the displaced air, and smell the change in sour aroma. Something was approaching. Hunting. And I was the prey.

The shuffling suddenly fell silent, and I was enveloped in a droning silence. My heart pounded, and every fiber in my wool body tingled with anticipation.

Except what I was actually feeling wasn’t subconscious tingling at all. It was in fact legs. Sixteen of them.

Two black spiders had emerged from the darkness, and were crawling all over me. One of the spiders was larger than the other, I could tell because of the difference in weight. The larger one was the problem.

It used its sharp pincers to nibble and tear at my loose fibers. The smaller one just crawled, and sniffed, and was more interested in the crumbs around me. The larger one, however, was determined to pick me apart.

I didn’t know much about spiders, but my best guess was that it was going to use my strings to reinforce its creepy spider home. But I was the champion of the sock drawer. I couldn’t afford to lose a single fiber.

Using a clever trick I learned from the older socks in the deep corners of the sock drawer, I began entwining each of the loose strands Ellie had torn away around the spider’s legs. My plan was to scare the spider away by making it think that it had been caught, and was about to become my next meal.

With four of its hairy legs wrapped around my green strings, I tugged and tightened my grip. The big spider instantly started to panic, and hissed its frustration. It tried to bite, and snap at me, but my strings were long enough to keep its pincers at a safe distance.

The smaller spider ran off once it realized its larger companion was caught in a trap. It made the fight fair.

Kicking. Tugging. Yanking. Twisting. Writhing.

We battled on in the darkness...