The jester mocks and tells his jokes, Whereas the king, he hears his word, And both they laugh ‘bout funny folks, Of braveries that they have heard.
And while the king is entertained, The jester smiles and shakes his head, For he’s a jester, friend and saint, Forerunners told him who are dead. The king is lost, they start to sing, They swap the crown for hat with bell, Who jester is and who is king, The servants ask, they cannot tell.
She gazes in a kind of mystical awe at the myriad of socks laid out over the king size bed. Ankle socks, trainer socks, walking socks, Christmas socks, poodle socks (remember those?), long socks, posh socks, socks with holes in, even a special ballet sock. The most extraordinary feature of this collection is the fact that not one, not even the limited edition sock that has a personalized image of Gareth Bale printed on it, is a match.
In the school staff room, she recounts this discovery to the amusement (mainly) of her colleagues. One is, however, looking genuinely puzzled. “How?” the neat, tidy and super organized teacher asks in bewilderment, “How does that happen?”
“How does it not happen?” replies the Sock Queen. “How, how does anyone keep socks in pairs?”
Super organized teacher suggests gently that Sock Queen pairs the socks before they go in the washing machine.
“I’ll try,” promises Sock Queen as the bell goes to mark end of break. She leaves the staff room, now litter…