Marley was getting nowhere with his girlfriend. As the kisses became more heated, the caresses more intimate, Callie would invariably, firmly, demur. “Couldn’t we just cuddle? Couldn’t we just hug?”

“If you let me, I’ll love you till the end of time,” Marley tried to assure her, his chided hand hovering a shy millimeter above the pout of Callie’s tender nipple.

“And if I won’t you won’t?” Callie replied, twisting away, rearranging her blouse.

Marley had no answer but to keep kissing her, no remedy but to go home to an ice cold shower, for he truly loved Callie. Still, in this day and age, when all his friends were like wild dogs coupling randomly in fields of rutting bunnies...

Marley had no choice but to visit the crone. The old woman’s hutch wasn’t hard to get to, around the corner and down the stairs from where Filene’s Basement used to be. Marley explained the situation, and the crone listened, her gap-toothed smile never wavering, her twinkling eyes ever steadfast, and when he’d finished the sad tale, she doddered to a dusty chest of drawers, stooped low, pulled the bottom drawer out a creaky crack, and extracted something—something soft and tangled, which she brought to Marley.

“Socks?” Marley said. “I don’t understand.”

“To cure her cold feet,” the crone said, a wink to her voice.

Marley was dubious.

“They’re a special blend I knitted myself,” said the old woman as she untangled the socks and fed them one at a time into a plain brown bag of the kind a hardware shop might provide for a couple of screws to refasten the loose toilet paper holder in your downstairs bathroom. With gnarled hands the old woman crumpled the top of the sack into a tight, crinkled crimp, and handed it to Marley. “One thing,” she warned. “One vital, vital, vital thing. Once these are snuggly on the fair maiden’s feet, you’ve got to quench her quick.”

“Quick?” Marley said. “Quench her?”

The old woman nodded solemnly.

Marley wasted no time. That very afternoon, two hours before their expected dinner date, he rapped boldly on Callie’s apartment door.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, a flush spreading across her face as if surprised or embarrassed to see him. “I didn’t expect you. I was just...” And without finishing her thought, without closing the door, she embraced him. The little paper sack of socks caught between them, crushed between them, buffering the press of their eager loins. Marley had never known Callie to be so ardent. Harder and harder she hugged him, until he crackled. No, it was not Marley crackling but the sack of socks, and Callie, as if surprised at the sound, released her hold and stepped back. “Did I break something?” she started to say, and looking down noticed the fallen package on the floor. “What’s that? The remains of your lunch?”

“Oh, no,” Marley replied, not sure if Callie was serious. “It’s a present. For you. For us.”

When Callie bent to lift the little sack, Marley couldn’t help but notice, in the deep vee of Callie’s blouse, that her chest was flushed, her nipples decidedly erect. Standing, Callie shook the little bag. It rustled like fallen leaves. “It’s very light,” she said. Then she frowned. “It’s not a package of condoms, is it?” She looked at Marley with wide, accusing eyes.

“Oh, no,” Marley answered quickly. “Nothing like that. Why don’t you open it and see?”

Cautiously, Callie unfurled the crimped opening. Cautiously, her wrist disappeared into the brown wrapper. She bit her bottom lip as if her toes were delving the murky bottom of a silted pond and then, tentatively, she pulled up a single sock. Lips parted, she looked at it a moment. Marley couldn’t quite read her expression.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“Why it’s darling,” she said. “So soft. So ... tender.” Her slim fingers sank into the trembling fleece. “What is it?”

“A sock,” Marley declared. “You know—a stocking.”

“Yes, but shouldn’t there be two? Don’t they usually come in pairs?”

Marley took the sack from Callie’s hand and peered inside. Empty. “There were two,” he insisted. “I’m sure there were two. I don’t know what could have happened to the—”