Straightening the Hem(Buddy Series, Bachira)

I found a neat stack of clean gym socks resting on the low wooden chest this morning. The white cotton smelled fresh and felt cool under my hands. One sock was rolled loosely, its blue stripe twisting away from the seam. I sat down beside the pile and gently nudged the cuff, patting the ribbed fabric until the lines settled straight and parallel against the wood. It felt nice to see everything in its proper place.