September 26, 2002

I was so full of anxiety and indecision about the lone sock that I just kept knitting, failing to notice (until it was too late) that it had gotten so big it could only fit E.S.

Now I have to figure out how to get it to him. I don’t have his address in Boston. I could send it to his sister, who lives in the same building he lived in here, but that would mean I’d have to send a note along with it; a single sock showing up in the mail with no explanation would be too sinister for words. And what could a note possibly say? “Sorry I dumped your brother, this is his if he wants it.”

Here, in any case, is a picture of the sock.

Here is a picture of the sock close up.

Here is a picture of the sock probably just having done something it would prefer to keep to itself.

Maybe I should just frame the damn thing and leave well enough alone.