His foot was all I could think about. The feeling, his toes, being squished between the floor and his heel. It was an overwhelming hyper focus I couldn't shake. How long had I been his sock? Was I ever going to change back? Did I want to? He was watching TV and it played some show which I couldn't pay attention to, just his foot. The TV turned off and he shuffled above me, curling his toes into my fabric. He stood up.
"I think I'll go for a jog."
Finally.