Dear Madam,
Further to your advertisement, and having myself lost a sock one day, I can reveal all the consequences of this loss to you. I searched for the lost one, its sister in my hand, until weary of the battle I sat down, thoughtful.
Why did I not just throw away the other one? Well no, I had the notion, goodness knows why, to put it on my right foot and leave the other foot totally bare. I walked about in the house, each foot producing very different feelings: the weight of my body; the temperature and texture of the floor. Managing not to be seen, I went outside and planted my feet on the extremely rough doormat at the entrance.
Thus, I accepted that my sensitive soles had toughened up. I threw caution to the wind: I tested all sorts of surfaces; all kinds of places; all sorts of temperatures; even snow and black ice. This story of feet opened my mind. What if I lost or willingly threw out something, to see what this loss would bring about? If I threw away a bulky piece of furniture that eats up space in the room. If I took down an unnecessary curtain which kills the daylight. If I cut down a hedge and couldn’t care less about being visible.
Oh yes and I also told a cousin, who is too keen to take advantage of me, to get out of my life, with no justification on my part: he seemed surprised.
After the objects and my cousin, I tried to get rid of, let's say, false and preconceived (putting it politely) ideas. That really raised my spirits. Of course, nature abhors a vacuum, so other, equally useless ideas crept into my mind.
This is all to say that if this blasted sock has gone missing, then it’s probably going to produce a butterfly effect in you.
Kindest regards,
A friend.
Butterfly effect is the concept that small causes can have large effects. cf, Edward Lorenz.
André Gouyneau lives in New Caledonia - South Pacific. Story was published in Atlantis, Amsterdam Quarterly, New Caledonia.