A sock

A sock.

Soft, elastic, stretchy. In movement, stretching laterally with each footstep as it is squished into the ground. Victim of fate, always moving forwards- a fixed center, a second skin to the foot.

As the music thrummed and swayed, a feeling of peace - acceptance - dripped from the melody. "Walk". We began to move. Become the sock... Now there's a really odd thought. I was self-concious; I felt dumb swaying/staggering around the room as the others walked at various paces. If I left myself slip, I wanted to dance. But we were in theater class. I was just a sock. Not a dancer. "Move faster.""Expand the movement!"The music made me feel like moving in an almost dance-like pattern, as the sock stretched and tightened with every step, tossed around by the winds of fate with no hands to take the reins. I still felt self-conscious, and had to be careful not to move to quickly because of my skirt (note to self: always wear pants to drama - I ought to know that by now!)."Faster!""Bigger!"I no longer had time to observe the others. I started to let go a little, moving to the music as it felt right, still struggling really hard to be a sock. Stretching, tightening. I fell into a pattern, then tried to break it."Talk!"And say what? For whatever reason, short of breath and still moving, I began to mumble the phrases, 'Just keep moving' and 'Everything's going to be ok'. Perhaps I could claim those were developed through the threads of the sock being tossed and thrown around life by factors beyond it's control, living one step at a time. More likely though were the words drawn from the movement and my own subconscious mind-frame. "Faster!""Louder!"I forgot to be self-concious, and I began to slip into the dance, my movements more fluid and open than before. It came to a point where I honestly wasn't thinking of anything in particular other than the word "sock", "sock", "sock" repeatedly within my head; just feeling the movement and hearing the music as I exhaled the phrases. The music stopped. Well, what a strange exercise... and why on earth did I pick a sock? I became once again hyper-aware of the others in the room again, though I have not a clue how whatever I was doing measured up against their movements. The line between dance and theater, just as between theater and literature, I seem unable to properly distinguish. Yet if I'm moving to the music, when have I lost the exercise and am simply dancing? What is the distinction between dance and theater?