The orange in the sock

Who put the orange in my sock? I don’t like orange of any kind. Oval, round, tangy, sweet, I hate them all.

The old man grumbled as he went around the house to check for sign of the break-in but everything looked to be in perfect order. He then open his backdoor and threw the orange in the yard, thinking some animals might like it more than he does.

The next morning, another fresh orange appeared in his sock. This time it was even bigger and brighter. He threw it out again.

On the third day, when he opened his door with the orange at the ready, a squirrel was waiting. The squirrel was so skinny, you’d think it’s a paper mache on a small frame.

Now the old man likes oranges and he shares it with his new ferry friend.


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