A Single Sock

SHE found it at the back of cupboard buried underneath an old jumper and some old tights with a hole in them. It’s bright pink colour shone brightly underneath grey wool, and she released a sigh as she pried the single sock free from its dark grasp.

She’d been looking for this sock for months now, although she wasn’t terribly surprised that it had actually been here all along.

Anna slid the sock on quickly, her mid-air hop swaying slightly as her uneven balance threatened to topple her over. She reached blindly for the nearest wall, finding herself clutching at the bathroom door in the shadowed light of the room. She glared down at the offending sock as if blaming it for her near topple.

She should’ve known better to put it through Sam’s washing, she knew it would end up getting lost, but she’d been so tired at the time that the thought of hunting it down to take back to her parent’s house was too much. Instead, she had left it sitting innocently on the floor.

Often, when pieces of her clothes were lost, she wondered why she hadn’t just moved in with her hopeless boyfriend already. It had after all been more than four years since they had first started dating, three since she started staying over and her clothes started going missing. Briefly, she wondered if the missing sock was some sign from the universe.

Her past relationships had never worked out, her short temper and need for order had always led to shouting matches, smashed glass and a broken heart. But this time was different.

Surely this time it would be different.


Sam opened the door, a wedge of light spilling in from the hallway. His mismatching socks drew to a stop in front of her. Anna studied the two pairs of feet beside each other, one matching and the other clad in strange patterns, but leaning towards hers. So different, and yet they fit together so well.

She supposed searching for her sock was like searching for Sam. He was the bright pink sock amongst the grey jumpers and black underwear. A bright light in the middle of the wardrobe of her life.

“Are you ok?” Sam stooped down to her level.

Anna looked up at Sam, at his kind face, at the way his eyes crinkled at the corners as he peered down at her, the freckles that danced along the bridge of his nose.

“I couldn’t find my sock.” Sam grinned at her, reaching forward to pull her to feet. She clicked her bright pink heels together in a poor imitation of Dorothy.

“But I’ve found what I was looking for now.”

Sam laughed loudly, and she couldn’t help but grin back at him.

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