Monday, June 7, 2021

THE LAST OF THE SOCKS

 (Or is it?)



This box of socks, all of which once hung on a fence, is being discarded, with a heavy heart, because of the memories of the fleet unfooted items, flying in the breeze on a fence, in protest, in decoration, for a laugh, however you saw them.

They have been in hiding, for want of a new project, but, over time, they have lost their luster and now they stink of mice, and decay and indifference.


vive la chausette!



 



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