I’ve been invisible for 276 days. I’m not sure how it happened. It’s not as amusing as it sounds. The novelty wears off, and when it does, the loneliness sets in.
I slice through the crowds on the busy city sidewalk, not even bothering to avoid the occasional collision with passersby. I know it’s rude, but they won’t know that; they can’t see me.
But when I bump into him, he stares at me. When his eyes lock on mine, old habits take over. “Sorry,” I mumble.
His eyes widen and he says exactly what I’m thinking: “Can you see me?”