I am an invisible man. No, I am not a spook
like those who haunted Edgar Allan Poe; nor am I one of your Hollywood-movie
ectoplasms. I am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids --
and I might even be said to possess a mind. I am invisible, understand, simply
because people refuse to see me. Like the bodiless heads you see sometimes in circus
sideshows, it is as though I have been surrounded by mirrors of hard, distorting
glass. When they approach me they see only my surroundings, themselves, or
figments of their imagination -- indeed, everything and anything except me.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment