The Odd Sock - 22 Nov 25

Once, it was not so, that he had to be alone. The three grey stripes that rode down his black side once ran parallel to a twin. None could say when it happened, only that it did. Now he forever lived in a space that was older than him, and although the owner of the space where he was kept could reach out to others like it, the connection between them wasn't deep enough to reach him. Every now and then he was lifted by hands that once paired him with the other. Though he knew it was futile, his spirit still rose on the tails of false hope Then, as the long drop back down began, the rising breeze pushed gently against him, as if the world resisted his return. During his plummet he realised the current cycle had ended and the next was about to begin. It was clear from his return to the beginning that he was not to be reunited this time, but it was not the end, which meant that all hope was not yet lost. He could only dream of the grand adventures of their partner, wanting to believe that they didn't miss him. He believed it was the thought of him travelling the world that kept him going and being allowed to return to the start, time after time.