Post by Mavrick on Mar 26, 2007 9:19:38 GMT
So back in Aus when I was in grade 11 (15 years old), I entered a writing competition through my school. I thought the story sucked, but they published it in a large collection book which included hundreds of other entrants and the winners. So here it is, laugh as much as I did writing it.
Lost Socks
Socks are bound to get lost in the washing machine. But my socks don’t get lost in the washing machine; they are stolen!
How do I know this? Well I just so happened to open the washing machine during a cycle one day and caught one being stolen!
“Mum, have you put the washing on?” I asked. I was desperately looking for my wallet and realised I had left them in my pants pocket.
Mum nodded.
I rushed into the laundry and pulled the lid of the washing machine up.
Inside, darting around, covered in suds was a rat like animal with big, yellow eyes and one of my socks.
It shrieked and pointed a finger at me; “Close the lid!”
Too shocked, I didn’t close the lid.
“Intruder!” it shrieked once again. “We have to capture it!”
Now if my eyes weren’t wide enough as it was, they nearly fell out of my head when three more little ‘rats’ jumped up from under the soaked washing, looking to the one who had screamed.
The next thing I knew, I was being pulled into the washing machine! I didn’t have time to shout out, I went head first into the washing! I saw the little rats growing bigger and even spotted my wallet the size of a pillow go past my head… I was shrinking!
When I woke up I was up to my neck in gigantic socks. There were countless little rats standing with wide eyes; staring at me like I was the odd one.
“You have disturbed the peace of the Socko Tribe!” one called from a throne of brightly coloured socks, “The penalty is death!”
“W-what!” I spluttered.
The little rats of the Socko Tribe then burst into high-pitched laughter, “I’m only kidding!” the one on the throne said, “What brings you into our realm?”
“I was looking for my wallet when I was sucked in.”
“Abbalonia must have sounded the alarm,” another said, sighing.
“Ah yes, Abba. She’s so paranoid. You see; usually we just duck under the washing when someone opens the lid. But Abba panicked and sucked you into our world. She even dropped the sock she was stealing.”
“Why do you steal socks?” I asked, standing.
“We are the Socko Tribe. Our god requires socks. Now, we are going to take you back to your world, and never steal socks from you again on one condition. You must never tell anyone about the Socko Tribe, it is essential to our existence.”
I nodded; it was all I could manage. When I blinked, I was standing at the washing machine again, staring down at my wallet, lost among nearly a hundred socks. I picked my wallet up then closed the lid; the Socko Tribe said not to tell anyone about them, but I had to wonder who would believe me even if I did decide to tell anyone. So I walked out to my staring mother, dripping wet, smelling like washing powder.
Lost Socks
Socks are bound to get lost in the washing machine. But my socks don’t get lost in the washing machine; they are stolen!
How do I know this? Well I just so happened to open the washing machine during a cycle one day and caught one being stolen!
“Mum, have you put the washing on?” I asked. I was desperately looking for my wallet and realised I had left them in my pants pocket.
Mum nodded.
I rushed into the laundry and pulled the lid of the washing machine up.
Inside, darting around, covered in suds was a rat like animal with big, yellow eyes and one of my socks.
It shrieked and pointed a finger at me; “Close the lid!”
Too shocked, I didn’t close the lid.
“Intruder!” it shrieked once again. “We have to capture it!”
Now if my eyes weren’t wide enough as it was, they nearly fell out of my head when three more little ‘rats’ jumped up from under the soaked washing, looking to the one who had screamed.
The next thing I knew, I was being pulled into the washing machine! I didn’t have time to shout out, I went head first into the washing! I saw the little rats growing bigger and even spotted my wallet the size of a pillow go past my head… I was shrinking!
When I woke up I was up to my neck in gigantic socks. There were countless little rats standing with wide eyes; staring at me like I was the odd one.
“You have disturbed the peace of the Socko Tribe!” one called from a throne of brightly coloured socks, “The penalty is death!”
“W-what!” I spluttered.
The little rats of the Socko Tribe then burst into high-pitched laughter, “I’m only kidding!” the one on the throne said, “What brings you into our realm?”
“I was looking for my wallet when I was sucked in.”
“Abbalonia must have sounded the alarm,” another said, sighing.
“Ah yes, Abba. She’s so paranoid. You see; usually we just duck under the washing when someone opens the lid. But Abba panicked and sucked you into our world. She even dropped the sock she was stealing.”
“Why do you steal socks?” I asked, standing.
“We are the Socko Tribe. Our god requires socks. Now, we are going to take you back to your world, and never steal socks from you again on one condition. You must never tell anyone about the Socko Tribe, it is essential to our existence.”
I nodded; it was all I could manage. When I blinked, I was standing at the washing machine again, staring down at my wallet, lost among nearly a hundred socks. I picked my wallet up then closed the lid; the Socko Tribe said not to tell anyone about them, but I had to wonder who would believe me even if I did decide to tell anyone. So I walked out to my staring mother, dripping wet, smelling like washing powder.
