Tuesday, December 18, 2007

3 cashmere socks ... my true love gave to me

The tree looked forlorn without the gaily wrapped Christmas presents huddled around its base. She surveyed the living room; the carpet littered with shreds of wrapping paper, cracker halves and long snake like strands of curled green ribbon. They were all outside, he was teaching the children how to ride their new bicycles. They had already tired of their other presents. She sipped her sherry and stared down at the socks. A set of three. Pink, blue and yellow. Cashmere. Socks. Socks. Socks. She repeated the word over and over again in her head till it lost its meaning. It was like a joke out of one of those awful romcoms she used to watch. She picked up the leather bound first edition she had gotten him. The leather bound first edition she had driven four hours North to procure. The leather bound first edition she had to wait an extra two hours for while the antiquarian bookstore owner ate his lunch. Socks. 8 years of marriage and three children. Socks. Was he really that obtuse? Or was he trying to tell her something. Were the socks some kind of scrambled, coded message that she was supposed to decipher? What did they mean? ‘I don’t love you anymore’ ‘I’m having an affair’ ‘What do you expect, you’ve gained 30 pounds in the last 2 years’ ‘I’m an idiot’. He had been overjoyed with his present of course, and hadn’t even had the grace to look ashamed or sheepish or anything when he handed over his present to her. After he left the room she had rummaged about inside the socks, turning them inside out, vainly hoping that there was something inside – a locket, a ring… something. But they were empty. She shivered. The flames of the fire meekly flickered in the later afternoon light. She stood up and walked towards the grate, book and bottle of sherry in hand, muttering her husband’s name over and over again till it too lost all meaning.

6 comments:

lekhni said...

3 sets of socks..was that one set for every child she bore?

Cashmere socks are just what I need now, though. My toes are freezing in this cold. The socks sound luxuriously warm.

Falstaff said...

Maybe it's his way of saying that after 8 years together he doesn't want her getting cold feet?

Or maybe it's a Harry Potter reference. Remember Dumbledore and the Mirror of Erised? How all the man who has everything desires is a pair of woolen socks.

The ramblings of a shoe fiend said...

Lekhni - I'd get the Coach handbag instead:) that should warm you all over

Falstaff - For someone who doesn't like Harry Potter you know an awful lot :P

??! said...

Maybe it's his way of...of...of...nope. sorry. That's really just such a typical guy-gift. Sympathies.

Falstaff said...

shoe-fiend: Awful lot is right.

Actually, I quite enjoyed the first few books, it's only around Book 4, when she dispensed with editing and started to pretend she could write that I got annoyed. Book 5 (the last of the series I read) was unforgivable.

??! said...

Falsie's right. Book 3 was actually good by kiddie SF&F standards (and my personal pick of the series) and then it plunged. Book 5 was so bad it's going to be a cult favourite in 15 years, what with all the ANGER! and the SHOUTING!