Sometimes, I feel invisible. Not in the awesome “look at my super power” way, but in the “[waves] I’m right here dammit!” way. Sometimes it’s related to my gender, my race, my status as a parent, my particular presentation on that day.
There are a lot of ways and under a lot of different circumstances one might become invisible. Let’s write about the disappearing – yours or someone else’s. Maybe a thing you were holding?
Was it all at once? Did your body go piece by piece? Which piece went first? Last?
Was it like being erased with a pencil’s eraser? Or having paint thinner splashed on a canvas? What was it like?
Did you know it was happening? Did you object/try to stop it? Was it welcomed? Were there parts of it/you that you wanted erased?
Who did it? Who noticed?
During, what was different? What did you experience (see/hear) that you couldn’t or didn’t before?
Did the part(s) come back?
Did it matter? How? To whom?
After, what then?