A Sock-Finding Mission

The treasure chest, when I finally wrestled it open after a rather dramatic struggle with a particularly stubborn latch that seemed to be made of solidified giggles, was… well, it wasn’t what I expected. No mountains of glittering gold, no chests overflowing with sparkling jewels. Instead, it was stuffed to the brim with socks. Not just any socks, mind you. These were *talking* socks.

“Oh, thank goodness!” a stripy one exclaimed, wiggling its toe-seam as if it had just finished a marathon. “I thought I was going to be stuck in here forever, and my elastic is starting to go!”

“Forever is a very long time to be stuck with only lint for company,” chimed in a fluffy pink sock, its voice a high-pitched squeak. “My heel is getting quite chilly, even in this chest.”