All Is Right with the World.

I had given up.

I searched again last night. Every spot that I had ever left them. The corner by the closet where we keep our shoes. Under the bed. Under the cabinet in the bathroom. I even checked my son's diaper bag because, hey, you never know.

Still no sign.

I looked down at my feet. They were shoved into an old pair of bright red chenille socks. Said socks are stretched beyond repair. They constantly slip down my feet, forcing me to walk with a sort of kick step so I don't trip over the empty fabric pouches which are flopping five inches ahead of where my toes actually are located. I have to shuffle over the hardwood and linoleum so as not to slip due to the lack of rubber nubbins on the sole of the socks.

Even through the fabric, I could see my feet glaring at me in accusation.

I fell asleep, weary yet restless. My dreams were unkempt and blurred, moving too quickly for me to maintain any control over their direction. There was a journey. A beautiful road. An idyllic village. I remember turning around, backtracking, leaving Nirvana behind as I sought something that eluded me. I couldn't reach my destination. I was running late. Nothing was going right. Everyone was laughing, even me, but my laughter was forced.

When I woke up, I felt dreadful. Lack of sleep. Pounding head. After using the bathroom and calling in to work so I could schedule a doctor's appointment instead, I padded softly back to my darkened bedroom. Settling back into bed, an image appeared in my mind. A single remembrance of a moment from my dream, frozen in time. It was of my mother, standing in my bedroom, looking through the white laundry basket that sits in front of my dresser.

Could it be? Would it be so easy and obvious?

Hesitant. Halting. Unsure. I approached the basket. Folded jeans and t-shirts lay on top, ready to be shoved into dresser drawers or simply pulled out of the basket and worn. Under the top layer, a pair of lounge pants I had thrown into the basket a few days ago, intending to get one more wear out of them and then forgetting they were there.

I dug in, pushing aside neatly folded clothes, diving for those pants. A cuff appeared, then part of the leg. I pulled and stopped. A flash of color in the darkened room. Bright pink. I stared, joy thumping in my heart.

I found my comfy socks.