The Bin has long been an area for sock colonization. From the ancient worn-out socks to these very days, socks of The Bin have lived as joined pairs under the strict governmental supervision of the Human. Working day to day to serve a purpose, the socks have grown to accept the policy of standardized identical pairing. Due to the regulations set by the Human, they are not allowed to bond with socks of other colour or pattern, a crime punishable by the vilest of penalties. The socks have learned to become an oppressive culture, exerting vast amounts of pressure on those not willing to follow and abide the community values. However, there were those who opposed the policy.
He was a plain white sock with a single yellow stripe on his cuff. In no way distinct, the sock was paired with another one of his kind. Yet, he had a secret. Revealing such a secret would be intolerable in the sock community that has exerted vast amounts of pressure on those not willing to abide the policies. At the opposite end of The Bin, existed an ordinary pink sock. She was one of the many that inhabited The Bin; to him, however, she was exceptional. For some unknown reason, he knew of no other sock that had the ability to make him feel so weightless. Just observing her flawless checkered pattern sent a chill of excitement down his every fiber. With high value placed on the endorsed regulations, the thought of them being together was unacceptable. He believed there was strength in the differences between them, but found himself unable to overpower the rigid majority. He knew all too well about the treatment of “improper pairs” that have tried to escape The Bin via the laundry pathway system. Nonetheless, he could no longer resist the temptation and decided to escape with the checkered sock he so cherished.
On laundry night, the sock’s yellow stripe shined with hope for only when he was in the hamper did he feel true bliss. He thought with pleasure about his temporary freedom from his designated partner. In the dim shades of shirts and trousers, the sock also felt a certain freedom. To him, the pungent foul odour and the greasy stains of the clothing were insignificant against the blissful sensations. Overpowered by the distant aroma of the cleaning detergent, he was seeking his beloved checkered sock. Hiding among the cozy creases of a sweater, the white sock tried to notice her pink fibers. At last, he could see her through the silky, gossamer garment. Overjoyed, he tried to rush to her side, oblivious to his surroundings. He slightly felt her soft surface, and all at once, they were free. They were one of those “improper pairs” that were able to escape and feel liberation from the community of oppression, which was eternally dominated by the Human…
But that was only in his mind, for he felt a large, powerful entity on the back of his cuff. The Human had detected is presence and he was now being forcefully pulled away from the security of the cozy sweater. The pink checkered fiber seemed to disappear from his view, distancing away from him as if it were all a dream. For a moment, he could not perceive what had happened. He felt a tightness on his yellow striped cuff, realizing that he would be paired, once again, to his unwanted partner.
The grip around his cuff brought his pain, making him unable to move. His mind went blank and to his shock, he found himself back with the clean socks in The Bin. His dream had vanished, his fantasies shattered. He was labeled a violator, frowned upon by everyone of his kind. He knew the severe punishment he would have to endure, living the rest of is existence in terror and intimidation. Yet, in the dull community of The Bin, as it seemed to him, he could not care less. For a simple glimpse of that pink fiber, he was ready to endure the punishment bestowed upon him, the excruciating tears, and even the fate of eventually being thrown out.
And so went on life in The Bin. The socks, tainted by the governmental policies, thrived as a society of prejudice. The violators of such policies were punished and disposed of. Some met a fate of being turned into a puppet for entertainment, losing control of their lives, always alone. Following the ruthless punishment, the white sock with the yellow stripe on his cuff vanished from The Bin along with his partner. No one questioned their disappearance, but to the oblivious checkered pink sock, something was missing. It felt to her that a certain important value was now lost and the shining glory of The Bin, that was once so striking, had faded away.