Lost Socks

I ran. Sped off at a speed that only adrenaline could’ve created. Usually I was not the fastest or most gifted runner. My body took sharp ragged breaths, my legs moved without my permission. I was out of control. My mind did not go anywhere but towards the road ahead, the yellow lines striping the street guiding me forward. Incandescent lights showered the road in an amber glow. The road ahead contained the object I desired. Small incandescent opal wings floated gracefully above me, just barely flittering, shaking a coat of sparkling mist in its wake, a tool of course, to confuse and disorient me. These creatures were crafty, impish and evil. They took something that belonged to me, something I couldn’t keep on going without. And every time I started to trust again, more and more disappeared. The tiny fluttering body had what I needed in its hands, though I couldn’t see it now. My mother ran behind me, begging me to come home. I refused with a shout of pure agony, begging her to understand. The fairies stole it. Again.


“Mom, I cant keep letting those little devils steal my socks out of the dryer!”