She
walks into the coffee shop, eyes lowered and shoulders slumped. She makes her
way to the counter and orders her usual: one large, black coffee. She thanks
the Barista and makes her way to “her” seat. She’s so intent on avoiding eye
contact that she doesn’t realise someone is already there. Her eyes open wide as
she stares at the crop of kinky-curly black hair spilling from the cap hovering
above the table. She slides into the seat across, slightly annoyed, and clears
her throat.
“Ahem.”
The hair doesn’t even stir. She frowns slightly.
“Excuse me?”
Still, nothing. She reaches over and taps the hat. The figure leans back making her gasp. There is nothing there. Just a floating hat with hair; yet she can hear the steady breathing of what should be a person sitting across from her at the table; yet she feels their presence. She looks around and wonders if anyone else can see(or not see) what she has just discovered. Just then a waitress walks over with a glass of lemonade and places it on the table in front of the hat.
“Here you go sweetie. On the house.”
She smiles and pats the hat before she turns around and walks away.
‘Was she nuts? Did this bitch know she was patting air? Maybe I’m the one who’s crazy…’
So many thought run through her mind as she fixes her eyes at the space before her, but she’s not really seeing. Not that there’s anything to see in the first place.
“It’s okay.”
She jumps at the voice and instinctively looks left and right for its origin.
“I’m sorry if I scared you. But you’re not crazy.”
She stares at the space in front of her not knowing what to think.
“You’re not crazy,” the voice repeats. “I’m just invisible.”
She frowns and says, “Are you psychic as well as invisible? How did you know that was what I was thinking?”
He chuckles and she’s surprised to find she actually likes it.
“No, it’s your face. You can’t hide anything you’re thinking.”
“Oh really? So what am I thinking now?”
“You’re wondering if I’m invisible, what on earth am I doing here, which is actually not the question you probably should be asking. The better question would be, why am I invisible?”
He’s right. She can feel his wry smile from across the table and she lets out a little sniff.
“Ah…I can see I’m right…and you don’t like to be wrong. Correct?”
“Great…I’m getting a therapy session from the Invisible Man,” she says, rolling her eyes and giving a little laugh of disbelief.
“The Invisible Man. How original.”
“Oh shut up.”
He lifts his glass of lemonade to his mouth and she watches with interest as the contents of the floating glass disappear into seemingly nothing.
“Okay. I’ll bite. Why are you invisible?”
He’s silent for a while as if he’s thinking.
“Have you ever read The Metamorphosis?”
“Kafka? Sure. Years ago.”
“Samsa was human and one morning he just woke up this giant insect thing. It’s kind of like that for me too. One night I went to bed normal and the next morning I woke up like this.”
Her lips twitch and she tries to stifle the smile that threatens to break across her face.
“I don’t think that’s what Yonce meant when she made Flawless.”
He lets out a chuckle.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“Didn’t you go to anyone? A doctor, scientist…magician?”
“A magician? Really?”
She shrugs her shoulders and rolls her eyes.
“Hey…they make things disappear all the time. Maybe they can do it in reverse.”
“Well that’s certainly one I’ve never heard before. I’ll be sure to call up David Blaine and ask for his help.”
She knows he’s rolling his eyes and it makes her smile. As she speaks to him she feels an incredible connection with him. Up to this point they had led very similar lives. Both only children, both ridiculously intelligent, both had very few friends when they were younger and even fewer now, both had jobs which they were over-qualified for, both alone.
As she sits comparing their identical lives, she finally realises. She’s invisible too. Her parents were dead and she had no best friend, no boyfriend, no one to worry about her when she’s ill, no one to say I love you to…no one to cry if she disappears. The parallels which at first make her feel so comfortable are now making her disgusted. She hadn’t been living, only existing. She’s unaware that he’s stopped speaking and is now looking at her intently. She begins to gather up her things.
“Leaving already?”
She jumps a little as his voice breaks her reverie.
“Umm…yeah…there’s some stuff that I…that I need to handle.”
“Alright. Maybe I’ll see you around then.”
She looks in his direction and smiles.
“Not if I can help it.”
She makes her way to the exit and walks into the crowded street outside. He smiles to himself as he lifts his glass to his lips. How sweet.
“Ahem.”
The hair doesn’t even stir. She frowns slightly.
“Excuse me?”
Still, nothing. She reaches over and taps the hat. The figure leans back making her gasp. There is nothing there. Just a floating hat with hair; yet she can hear the steady breathing of what should be a person sitting across from her at the table; yet she feels their presence. She looks around and wonders if anyone else can see(or not see) what she has just discovered. Just then a waitress walks over with a glass of lemonade and places it on the table in front of the hat.
“Here you go sweetie. On the house.”
She smiles and pats the hat before she turns around and walks away.
‘Was she nuts? Did this bitch know she was patting air? Maybe I’m the one who’s crazy…’
So many thought run through her mind as she fixes her eyes at the space before her, but she’s not really seeing. Not that there’s anything to see in the first place.
“It’s okay.”
She jumps at the voice and instinctively looks left and right for its origin.
“I’m sorry if I scared you. But you’re not crazy.”
She stares at the space in front of her not knowing what to think.
“You’re not crazy,” the voice repeats. “I’m just invisible.”
She frowns and says, “Are you psychic as well as invisible? How did you know that was what I was thinking?”
He chuckles and she’s surprised to find she actually likes it.
“No, it’s your face. You can’t hide anything you’re thinking.”
“Oh really? So what am I thinking now?”
“You’re wondering if I’m invisible, what on earth am I doing here, which is actually not the question you probably should be asking. The better question would be, why am I invisible?”
He’s right. She can feel his wry smile from across the table and she lets out a little sniff.
“Ah…I can see I’m right…and you don’t like to be wrong. Correct?”
“Great…I’m getting a therapy session from the Invisible Man,” she says, rolling her eyes and giving a little laugh of disbelief.
“The Invisible Man. How original.”
“Oh shut up.”
He lifts his glass of lemonade to his mouth and she watches with interest as the contents of the floating glass disappear into seemingly nothing.
“Okay. I’ll bite. Why are you invisible?”
He’s silent for a while as if he’s thinking.
“Have you ever read The Metamorphosis?”
“Kafka? Sure. Years ago.”
“Samsa was human and one morning he just woke up this giant insect thing. It’s kind of like that for me too. One night I went to bed normal and the next morning I woke up like this.”
Her lips twitch and she tries to stifle the smile that threatens to break across her face.
“I don’t think that’s what Yonce meant when she made Flawless.”
He lets out a chuckle.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“Didn’t you go to anyone? A doctor, scientist…magician?”
“A magician? Really?”
She shrugs her shoulders and rolls her eyes.
“Hey…they make things disappear all the time. Maybe they can do it in reverse.”
“Well that’s certainly one I’ve never heard before. I’ll be sure to call up David Blaine and ask for his help.”
She knows he’s rolling his eyes and it makes her smile. As she speaks to him she feels an incredible connection with him. Up to this point they had led very similar lives. Both only children, both ridiculously intelligent, both had very few friends when they were younger and even fewer now, both had jobs which they were over-qualified for, both alone.
As she sits comparing their identical lives, she finally realises. She’s invisible too. Her parents were dead and she had no best friend, no boyfriend, no one to worry about her when she’s ill, no one to say I love you to…no one to cry if she disappears. The parallels which at first make her feel so comfortable are now making her disgusted. She hadn’t been living, only existing. She’s unaware that he’s stopped speaking and is now looking at her intently. She begins to gather up her things.
“Leaving already?”
She jumps a little as his voice breaks her reverie.
“Umm…yeah…there’s some stuff that I…that I need to handle.”
“Alright. Maybe I’ll see you around then.”
She looks in his direction and smiles.
“Not if I can help it.”
She makes her way to the exit and walks into the crowded street outside. He smiles to himself as he lifts his glass to his lips. How sweet.
