Invisibility is an odd comrade.
It allows the unflinching entertainment of roofers in the living room while you’re clunky-robed, scruffy-looking and couched.
It allows you to slip in and out of family gatherings without so much as a touch or a lingering glance.
I suppose it would allow all kinds of subterfuge or espionage if you so desired. (I do not desire.)
But invisibility leaves a particular chill in the bones on winter days, an uncomfortable hole in the suburbs of the heart.
I think I’d like to part ways with this companion.
I wonder how that’s done?
Until tomorrow…
Chloe
