Sock Mouth

Instead of the bed I chose to lie on the floor to look at the ceiling from further away. I rolled to one side and snuffled my nose in the dusty carpet, then I rolled across the floor until my head was under the desk. The underside was rough with cobwebs and sagging veneers. I then rotated as fast as I could to the opposite corner of the room. I buried myself in my washing pile and placed my head in the bottom drawer of the dresser. In this dark comfort I could smell the piny scent of laundered socks. I bit one and sucked on it until my gums were dry and matted with wool.