Short story: "Pelerine" - sneak peak!

here's a sneak peak - full story, exclusive to Patreon, coming Tuesday!

Sasha tears the end of the package. If it's sexy knickers, she won't wear them when she's with Tony. That would be wrong. It would be amazing, but it would be wrong. 

She pulls the gift out of the padded envelope. 

White. Not sexy. Not one single little bit of sexy. 

Well, unless you're a bloke that has a schoolgirl fetish, and Tony's never mentioned anything like that. Smacked her bum once or twice, but never asked her to dress up. 

Well, not like that anyway. 

Sasha holds up the pair of knee socks. The kind they used to wear in primary school. What's the pattern called? Sasha smiles. Pelerine. 

Just holding them in her hands, remembering the name, makes her sentimental. Innocent times. Best friends, no secrets. 

Yeah. Definitely not sexy. 

Soft, though. And so clean, so bright and perfect, not a stitch out of place. Sasha remembers her first term of primary one when she wouldn't want to leave the house until she had her uniform just right. 

"Straight socks, Mummy."

Because the pattern is lines of diamonds, the same shape within bigger versions of itself. 

She holds the socks up to her face, gazes at them for a moment, maybe for a minute. Yes. Pelerine. The design is almost hypnotic. 

Sasha smiles. So white, almost dazzling. Daz washing powder white, like the old TV adverts. 

But why did Melanie send her a gift like this? 

Sentiment. Shared associations. A blast from the past. 

A symbol of their childhood. 

These socks weren't just for school either. How many times did their wear them with a dress for church, for birthday parties. Those white knee socks stayed in circulation from spring until late autumn, when they were replaced by those thick tights. Yeah, tights looked good on little girls, they made for great optics, but they weren't as much fun to actually wear. Scratchy or itchy, too warm. When they went back in the drawer, socks felt like freedom. 

"Little angel,” Mummy would say with her soppy smile. 

True enough. Sasha thinks back to a famous photo, herself and Melanie side by side, hand in hand, in their Christmas dresses, and sure Sasha was always a prettier girl, Mel cursed with a chunky figure no matter what she tried, and those glasses to fix her astigmatism. But she was still sweet, all children are beautiful really, even the chunky, speccy ones. And then they turn into teenagers and the girls like Sasha blossom and the girls like Mel…they’ve got great personalities. 

Sasha runs her finger along the seam of her new knee socks. Of course, they won't fit. And that's hardly the point, is it? Surely Mel doesn't expect her to wear them. 

She smiles, scuffs off her trainers and holds a sock against her foot. 

Actually, they will fit. Huh. Fancy that.