Prompt #211: ( The Memoir of an Abandoned Sock )
Day 27 –
Yes, it’s been exactly twenty-seven days since the fateful afternoon that I was placed in this wretched bin. The stench, as I’ve said before, is one of the foulest things that I’ve ever encountered. If only Robert wasn’t so lazy, he would’ve noticed that I was a clean sock.. A clean sock, I tell you! God damn his laziness. Anyway, I guess I should cut to the chase; for I’m running low on ‘ink’, which is actually melted chocolate from a tidbit of one of Robert’s candy bars. I can’t even begin to describe the squalor in which I’m wallowing. My fellow comrades, some of whom have been doomed to a millennia within this cesspool, do nothing but moan and groan day in and day out. It’s gut-wrenching, really. Oh, and the undergarments.. I’ve never met a being more crude or deranged. And the knee-highs? Ugh, they’re downright haughty… Oh dear, I’m carrying on again. I believe that this is going to be my last etching.. So, alas… If anyone finds this, please, please.. return this to my sister. She dwells within the top shelf of the oaken chifforobe. I’m going to be making the climb tonight.
May ‘Downy’ be with you,
– Lord Cottonite