The girl woke to the sound of nagging voices:

“Oh, Angela! Where are my socks? I put them up to dry last night,and,
they aren’t there! Did you do something with them?”

“Oh, Angela! How come breakfast isn’t ready yet? What is the
problem? Didn’t we give you the alarm clock so you’d be up before
us?”

“Oh Angela! Why are you scowling?”

The day had barely begun for her and already mysteries
abounded. Though, the mysteries as put forth by family and the
mysteries which, in truth,perplexed her were not at all the same ones. For her,

mysteries were more like:

“How could I possibly be related to these people?”

”Why in this world, or any other, would I be accused of sock

theft?”

“How come the alarm clock didn’t go off?”

Though, perhaps, the most important mystery of all was:

“How do my feet get so dirty while I’m asleep in bed?”

Angela looked at her feet, smeared with dried mud.

“Crumbled with dried mud?”

At any rate, mud had been there and smeared as well and then it
chose to curl up and die a thirsty little death all over her toes and
insteps.

The mystery was not what kind of dirt it is, but rather how it got
there at all.

Next Up: Chapter 3: Legends