The sock

Today, le chaussette d'anniversaire is exhausted. She has been riding for two days, through the streets of London, through northern Belgium with a crosswind, fighting crashes, rain, long, long stretches of flat road, and the humiliation of Robbie McEwen's sprinting ability. Already she is tired of eating 10,000 calories per day. Always the sock can feel the voiture balai breathing down her neck. She does not want to ride home in disgrace.

But the sock, she has a heel. She has gussets. She has part of a foot. For now, she needs to sleep.

The sock is tired, but she is also happy.