In Defense of the Sock Monster (Satire)
November 15, 2021
“ARE THOSE MY SOCKS?” Every week, my sock supply dwindles. Pairs have become singles.
The monster’s head swivels toward my direction. It pockets the last of my bare-thread Gold Toes. “Sorry ‘bout that,” it grunts. “Supply chain shortage. Inflation. Unemployed. Food’s hard to come by these days.”
A wave of shame and understanding overcomes me. The Sock Monster is not a monster — just a lonely soul trying to survive in a ruthless world. “I’ve got some fuzzy Christmas-themed ones upstairs, if they’re tastier.”
Its yellow eyes glow bright like an incandescent light bulb, and something warms inside my heart.