The Sock Walk You Can’t Look Away From For a full 10 minutes, I walk on my treadmill desk, working and typing, completely ignoring you. All you see is the steady rhythm of my socked soles and heels flexing with every step. It’s the perfect fantasy: being stuck under my desk, watching my soles rise and fall, knowing I don’t even notice you’re there. You hear me typing, focused on my work, while you’re trapped in the only view I allow you. These are my used workout socks, heating up as I walk, stretching tight across my arches, my slender soles wrinkle underneath the fuzzy white socks with each step. This is pure tease and denial — you get the view, but never my attention.