Neal stared uncomprehendingly at the swirls of red lazily spiralling in the otherwise unsullied water. He couldn't understand how this could have happened - how could he have been so careless? What could he have done differently to prevent this? He stared on, confusion turning to anguish as his mind spun from one improbable scenario to the next. And then it clicked. Mozzie. Only the little guy could have done something so stupid, so ill conceived, so selfish - who else would leave red socks in his carefully separated white laundry pile?