As I stood at the edge of the abyss, staring into the void of my sock drawer, I knew I was not alone. The drawer, once a haven of comfort and warmth, had become a prison of despair. The smell of stale air and forgotten dreams wafted up, a siren's call to the depths of madness. And then, I saw it: the perfect pair of socks.
But alas, they were just out of my reach. The drawer, it seemed, had been rearranged in the dead of night, leaving me with nothing but a sea of singles and a few lone stragglers, like orphans in a world without hope.
I wept, I wailed, I screamed at the heavens for the cruelty of the sock drawer's capricious ways. And in that moment, I knew I had to act.
Chapter 33: The Sock Drawer's Revenge