Nobody ever noticed the invisible man. Sure he might pass you on the street, bump into you even and all you’d do is look around in confusion trying to find the source of the touch. All he ever wanted to do was reach out and touch someone, to make contact.
But it was lonely being the invisible man, without even your own reflection to talk to, living like a ghost in a world obsessed with images. Today was the same as every other, waking up trying to make contact. , just hoping to be seen.