Different Grunting (Socks CCXXXVIII)

“I’m off to the washer. See you later,” said Cannon.
“Lucky,” Rar muttered.
Very soon Pretty was back. Rar could see her feet get close to the dresser. The dresser started to move, then stopped. Rar could see that she had moved a little off to the side, then she grunted, and the dresser moved a little more.
Rar didn’t like Pretty making the grunting noise, even though it wasn’t quite the same.
She walked to the other end of the dresser, grunted again, and the dresser moved a little more this time.
The phone rang, “Hello.”
“Oh, it’s you.”

Dry Up (Socks CCXXXVII)

The lights in the other room went out, and Pretty walked into the room. She picked up Cannon, felt him in several places, the hung him back on Dyson. The room got dark, and Pretty crawled into bed.
Lar could hear Cannon, Dyson, and Rar talking, but no mater how loud he yelled, they could not hear him from inside the drawer. Their conversation went in fits and starts through the night.
In the morning, Pretty left the room for a while, came back in, and picked up Cannon. After depositing him in the basket, she left with the basket.

Wet or Dry (Socks CCXXXVI)

Cannon continued, “I like to soak up water, then dry out.”
“I like to get in the washer and swim around, then roll in the dryer.”
“Oh, yea. That’s a real hoot, but rubbing on a wet person is lots better.”
“I didn’t like rubbing on Grunter’s wet ankles.”
Cannon was confused, so Rar explained.
“I don’t blame you. I much prefer drying Pretty.”
“Do you like to soak up water, Dyson?”
“I’ve never done it, but I have the feeling that it wouldn’t mix with the electricity.”
After a short time, light no longer came in through the window.

Cannon (Socks CCXXXV)

Rar had learned from Nick Cole that if one met one with no name, one gave them one.
“Dyson, look at him, tell me what you see.”
“Look at him? He’s all over me.”
“What color is he?”
“Green.”
“That’s not a good name. What else?”
“There’s a tag.”
“Read it.”
“Cannon.”
“Cannon is a manly name. How about it towel?”
“I like it, sounds tough,” Cannon agreed.
“Now, tell us what you do.”
“I soak up water from people.”
“I soaked up some water once, when Grunter stepped in a puddle. I didn‘t like it.”
“Why not? It‘s great.”

A Wet One (Socks CCXXXIV)

Dyson talked about electricity all while the shower ran. Rar didn’t believe a word of what she said about electricity, but kept it to himself, not wanting to argue.
The shower stopped, Pretty came in, draped a wet towel over Dyson, put on a robe, and left the room.
Rar watched the ankles go by again, and expressed his admiration.
“The rest ain’t bad either,” said the towel.
“Must be a male thing,” Dyson said.
“Ain’t it great,” the towel added.
Rar couldn’t see the towel, “Who is that, Dyson?”
“A wet towel.”
“What’s your name?”
“I don’t have one.”

Electricity (Socks CCXXXIII)

They were on a new subject.
“It’s a hard thing to explain, but it’s the thing that gives me the energy to pick stuff up, and sing.”
“Then why do you eat?”
“I like the taste of the particles.”
“Where do you get the electricity?”
“From a hole in the wall.”
“I thought your fire story was hard to believe.”
“What?”
“Does the electricity just bounce right out for you to eat.”
“No. My tail gets plugged in.”
“Then you start singing?”
“I can feel it in my tail, until my switch gets flipped, then I get warm all over.”

Passing Ankles (Socks CCXXXII)

“Where is the string now?”
“I don’t know, but Pretty emptied my belly at the same time, so he probably went with the other stuff.”
The two objects had run out of things they wanted to talk about to each other. They looked around the room without a word passing between them, all day.
When Pretty finally came into the room, she undressed, put the clothes in the basket, and walked to the bathroom.
“Did you see those ankles?”
Dyson didn’t answer.
“Hey, are you listening?”
“I heard you.”
“Well?”
“Yes, I did see her ankles, but I prefer electricity.”