This piece was written for the Six Sentence Challenge, with the prompt word of ‘reserve’.
When Alfie Centauri announced that he’d discovered where in the universe all the odd socks that disappeared in the weekly wash ended up, the responses from the public were culturally diverse (which of course was much to the satisfaction of ‘woke’ people) and tinged with a sense of reserve.
Hipsters said they never had that problem because they’d given up wearing them years ago to concentrate on growing beards and opening barista bars, where they could converse at length with customers about the quality of the crema and the impeccable FairTrade credentials of their beans.
App developers in Silicon Valley didn’t stop working on ways to embed cheap computer chips in socks so that they could always be tracked down, just like FindMyPhone, using a new technology called FoxMySox.
Obsessive-compulsive people smiled smugly, having for years pinned their pairs of socks together or bagged them before putting them in the wash and then hanging them out to dry in a similar manner.
Bachelors questioned whether it was even a problem because they simply bought the same brand and colour of socks exclusively, meaning they could never experience a mismatch and, over time, a lone sock would join another orphan to form a new pair.
Truth to tell, Alfie’s revelation that they all ended up in space and formed a growing Hose Zone Layer that would eventually provoke a new Ice Age largely went unremarked upon, except at NASA (the Nomadic and Absent Sock Agency), which promptly nominated him for the IgNobel Awards.