3/8/18

A+lone+sock+watches+as+people+pass+by%2C+yet+nobody+wants+to+pick+it+up.+As+each+new+person+saunters+by%2C+the+sock+reminisces+of+when+it+once+was+on+a+child%E2%80%99s+foot.+Plagued+by+simpler+childhood+memories%2C+forever+lost+in+a+cloud+of+thought%2C+and+yet+never+resurfacing+to+see+the+sunlight.+A+bleak+reminder+that+as+we+gaze+upon+the+sock%2C+our+once+precious+childhood+memories+are+farther+lost+within+our+temporal+lobe%2C+spiraling+away+into+nothingness.+A+soliloquy+for+a+sock%2C+now+lost+by+time+and+yet+forever+beckoning+us+back+into+childhood.+Yet+we+know+we+must+carry+on%2C+for+how+can+we+not%3F+Time%E2%80%99s+arrow+never+stands+still+nor+reverses%2C+it+merely+marches+forward.+And+as+the+students+pass+by+the+frail+sock+in+the+corner%2C+it+is+already+forgotten.

A lone sock watches as people pass by, yet nobody wants to pick it up. As each new person saunters by, the sock reminisces of when it once was on a child’s foot. Plagued by simpler childhood memories, forever lost in a cloud of thought, and yet never resurfacing to see the sunlight. A bleak reminder that as we gaze upon the sock, our once precious childhood memories are farther lost within our temporal lobe, spiraling away into nothingness. A soliloquy for a sock, now lost by time and yet forever beckoning us back into childhood. Yet we know we must carry on, for how can we not? Time’s arrow never stands still nor reverses, it merely marches forward. And as the students pass by the frail sock in the corner, it is already forgotten.

Nicole Ruppert