. . : . : . : . : . .: The Aesthetics of Disappearance 2. Invisibility

"Goodbye, Miss Ackerman." I got dressed, left the room and walked down the hall. There was a mirror on a cigarette machine in the lobby. I looked into the mirror. It was great. My whole head was bandaged. I was all white. Nothing could be seen but my eyes, my mouth and my ears, and some tufts of hair sticking up at the top of my head. I was hidden. It was wonderful. I stood and lit a cigarette and glanced about the lobby. Some in-patients were sitting about reading magazines and newspapers. I felt very exceptional and a bit evil, Nobody had any idea of what had happened tome. Car crash. A fight to the death. A murder. Fire. Nobody knew.