She

You don't look like her.

Studying her stringy hair limply and lazily draping her shoulder.

Her slender nose, so petite sitting upon her face. Her slender nose, not bothering to stand out, but rather fit in with the rest of her features.

As she pushed the grocery cart through the aisle, this thought is present.

But the scent of cotton candy fills the air, wrapping itself around this thought like a warm blanket. Massaging this thought away, finessing and crafting this thought into another - one of invisibility.

If no one can see me, then no one can ask questions. I'm not really here. The colors bouncing with excitement around this idea begin to form.

No one can see me, because I'm not really here.