Here you sit, with 29 other single friends. Once part of a perfect pair, now you are all outcast members of apparel.
You show off your individual characteristics: stripes, labels, patterns longing (like a teenage girl) for the day when you will find your perfect mate.
Confusion sets in as you try to recall how you ended up in this predicament. You made it to the laundry room, but somehow became separated during the endless spinning and tumbling. Did your mate get somehow lodged behind the machines or did he get pulled through the dryer vent into some unknown abyss?
You wait and hope that during the course of the day your counterpart will be found unharmed (accidental bleaching is the worst), but as the sun begins to set you feel the dread of knowing your fate will soon be sealed and you will end up in "the drawer".
The drawer of lost socks, never (perhaps more like rarely) to be appreciated again. There you will wait until in a chance encounter some child who is late and running out the door will just grab two of you and head to school. The shame will be great as one of you will sag and the other will barely fit on the child who carelessly grabbed you. You might not even be the same color or pattern.... the embarrassment.
Yours is a cautionary tale of companionship lost, of a once useful life left to whither away on a ledge instead of the once adored smelly tennis shoe.
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