My Companion Sock Is Missing

It’s one of the hairy grey wool socks I bought at a Llama farm on the outskirts of Lake Havasu Arizona.  I was traveling back from California in Sheila the Airstream motor-home, with Max and Snow my canine companions.  At the moment, I’m wearing one of the socks on my right foot.  It’s cold tonight so I’m looking hard for the companion.  …Star Trek circa 1966 when Spok, Kirk, the Dr. and a woman scientist land on a planetoid inhabited by a famous yet missing (for decades) Astronaut, who now lives in the company of ‘The Companion’; a cloud of swirling iridescence that hovers and engulfs the lost astronaut in what turns out to be alien lovemaking.  It looks pretty good.  He’s a bit stationary, but seems to enjoy it.  Rocket to astronaut love—I think I dropped my sock on the way in from the sauna.  Meanwhile I stop for e-mail and read a note from someone I just made contact with last night.  The author of a terrific website I found when I did a search for “is there a lot of mold in Glastonbury England?”.   Well of course there is.  I just wanted to see what people said about it and his site showed up on the first page of results.  Having nothing to do with mold, but everything evocative and engaging related to photography, travel–yes, there’s writing of his trip to Glastonbury, goth aesthetic, mournful love and witchy things that grow in the garden; I was a sucker for gawking and reading.  He also just started a website services business and I’ll now talk with him about a new venture I’m interested in establishing in Glastonbury England.  I think I’m going.  Yes, I’m going.  End of July actually, on the Queen Mary with ‘my’ companion Max.  I’m sure Snow who must surely reign in the subtle regions of space, will join us, along with the company of other companions and guardians in spirit.  Socks on, I’m ready for the journey.