After a long while, Mister Y’s mysteries returns with part 2 – a tale of intrigue and cotton thread, saved up from a few years ago.
Saturday, 14th October 2006:
Socks are forcibly removed from the cupboard, in preparation for the week ahead.
These are night-time socks; warm, fluffy – designed for home use only.
Sunday, 15th October 2006:
While changing into PJs this night, the socks are put aside – temporarily.
But later that night….
The socks are gone.
Did they go for their own walk?
Did they evaporate into thin air?
Did they decompose into tiny socks that would fit on the feet of spiders?
There’s no answer.
But there’s sleep.
Monday, 16th October 2006 – early, early morning:
Still no sign of the socks.
Failing to materialise, the sock investigation is set aside for the moment.
Then, later that morning…
The socks are found: hiding between the blankets.
With blanket re-arrangement the previous night, the socks must have ended up in the middle somehow.
By their own design?
By my sub-conscious action?
By the sock fairy or sock union boss, who look out for the well-being of socks?
No, that’s silly.
There are unions – but no such thing as sock fairies.
It doesn’t matter. The end result is: the socks got a warm night’s sleep too.
(This must please the union boss – whether he was behind this mystery or not)
Even later that morning…
As I leaving home, I spot something on the ground by the gate: a sock.
White. Wet. Crumpled.
Maybe cast out by the sock union, and finding no refuge elsewhere.Whatever the case, the fact is: this sock was not as fortunate as mine, for it had to brave a cold night outdoors.