Super Shorties

Sock Vortex

"Mom! I can't find my socks!!"

I've said it, you've said it, we all have said it at one point. But why?

The battle has waged almost as long as socks have existed. Single socks abandoning their mate or pairs taken together vanish without a trace never to be worn again. Where do they go? What takes them? And why do random objects also sometimes disappear?

Deep in the outer reaches of the milky way there is a ship long forgotten by its home. Once it had a crew to pilot it through the stars but they are gone now. At the same time they have yet to be born. Some would claim a wormhole was the culprit of the vanishing of the Starship Florence, others would claim magic had done the deed. Either way, the year 2086 is missing an exploration vessel.

Aboard the Florence came an uninvited host of people. Stowaways amidst the stars. They were a group of people undiscovered by the human race merely because humans tend to overlook what they don't want to see. Goblins came aboard the Florence in a box of supplies and stayed until the ship ran out of fuel. These goblins were harmless of course, maybe a little annoying, but humble people who only wanted to live their lives. The only conflict aboard the Florence with these goblins, was their eating habits. These goblins only ate socks. One sock per week disappeared to the small lair the goblins had built in the ventilation shafts and between the wiring. But soon there were no more socks. Everyone on board just wore shoes or suffered going barefoot. The goblins began to starve.

Eventually the crew left the ship, out of fuel and floating through the stars and the goblins took control. Weather through magic or worm hole the Florence found itself back in time and the goblins aboard still had no food. Fights broke out over scraps of cotton or a morsel of wool until a suggestion was cast. Why not create a vortex from here to earth that will bring socks to us? The idea was rejected for a while but eventually concidered and finally attempted. In an empty store room the vortex was opened.

At first nothing happened, but then a sock appeared. A silk sock from some french royal or another. Never had such a delicasy been beheld. Next were wool socks, a hole in the toe and heel. The goblins rejoyced, their food crisis averted, and began a feast of much merriment.

This vortex is the claimer of our socks. But it also claims the pens we drop in class by mistake. Or the toy from our rooms when we were little. These things often have no use to the goblins and are shoved back through the vortex though weather it arrives in the place it was taken from is another story.