ERISED: A Drabble

He liked to use the mirror- to brush his teeth, to comb his beard, to straighten the folds of his robe. To reassure himself that all he saw was his reflection- and to prove that he was still human, a pair of woolen socks.

But the socks were never his- always too big or too small. There would be dainty pink wand-patterned stockings, or boatlike men's winter woolens: the socks of lovers uncourted, the socks of friends never made. Or dozens of baby booties to mock his empty mantelpiece, which overflowed with the photos of children and grandchildren never born.