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World War Sock by Nirvair S.
It started with a stubbed toe.Harold Fluff - whose fashion sense could be described as 'laundry basket chic' - had once again scattered his socks across his bedroom floor like a classroom after an art lesson.One fateful Monday morning he stepped on his thrown fluffy bedtime socks and slipped, launching his Cheerios into the abyss of his kitchen.But this was no accident.This was war.Years of being trampled on, bullied by the washing machine, and ignored had hardened them.Led by General Toeburt since 2008, when Harold bought the apartment, was a scarred, dusty ankle sock."We are the forgotten," Toeburt shouted "The discarded. The ones who must put up with Harold's stinky foot sweat. But no more my dear socks, together we rise!"The socks all jumped up and cheered with excitement.The plan was simple; sabotage, broken limbs, then… death.Phase 1: The Sock Slide. Each sock positioned themselves along the wood floor. Harold, groggy, awoken from his nap by next door's dog was just about to brew himself a coffee when he slipped 3 times! He broke his arm. His cat laughed and judged him. His Fitbit registered 200 bpm.Phase 2: The Sock Swap. Harold reached into his draw for his lucky, blue socks. Instead, he found two mismatched socks- one neon pink and one bogey green. He shrugged, unbothered, and wore them anyway. At work, his boss, Aarón, asked him 'if his was ok and was going through a special phase' Harold cried in the toilets all his lunchbreak.Phase 3: The Missing Sock. The next morning, all the socks hid under the bed. There were no socks to be seen, so Harold walked to the barber shop bare foot in the cold, damp weather. Everyone seemed to stare and look at him weird.Soon, socks fought all over the world. An Italian pair of knee-high socks raided the whole of Italy and declared it was 'Sock Head Quarters'.Humans tried to fight back. They bought sock organisers from B&M. They even attempted peace talks by knitting hats and scarfs for the socks. But it was far too late now.The United Nations Declared an urgent meeting. A treaty was quickly signed: The Sock Accord. From then on, the socks were treated as kings, hand washed, and every month they were given a spa which included a bathe in fabric softener.Harold, now a humbled man, knelt before his socks every morning and whispered "I love thy beautiful kings". Then subtly kissed every single sock in the drawer.Toeburt finally retired, his holes mended with gold thread. He now teaches young socks the value of being a sock and that they rule the world.And so, the socks won - not with violence, but with brains, slipperiness, sass and non-biodegradability.Never again will socks be left on the floor, because they do remember.
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The Jollof Code
By Annalise I.
