The Invisible Man

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Let’s face it. We’ve all dreamed of invisibility at one time or another, most likely during our childhood.

Tell me: What mischief would you get into if you were invisible? Hop on an airplane and fly around the world for free? Eat at some of the priciest restaurants in town? Scare people with paranormal activity? Dance naked as though
no one was watching?

I’ve got news for you. I have acquired the gift of invisibility and you can too.
Just send $19.95 plus shipping and handling. Act now, our operators are standing
by. I must warn you. As Adrian Monk says: “It’s a gift and a curse.”

I did not develop this skill over time so I can’t really take credit for it, nor can
I always control it. It just fell into my lap in recent years.

Three things will cause me to
instantly become invisible: when
my wife is with her childhood friend
making beaded jewelry, when she
is on her computer and when she
encounters a baby in a stroller out
in public.

Last night, I put my gift to the test
while she was in the dining room on
her laptop. “Honey! I cut my arm!”
I yelled from the living room.” “If it
spurts, does that mean it’s an artery?”

Total Silence.

Test no. 2:

Honey! Does it
bother you that I’m
having an affair
with Catherine ZetaJones?”


I walk past
her with ninja-like
stealth and
go into the kitchen,
open the refrigerator and uncap the jug of 2 percent milk that’s been calling
my name. I take two healthy swigs straight from the bottle. My milk-lust
fully satiated, I stand there smiling as I bask in the afterglow of the 40-watt bulb that illuminates the room. Being invisible does have its benefits.

Like an Indian scout, creeping silently through the forest, I return to the living room couch realizing that the invisible are apparently silent too.

What a gift! What will tomorrow bring? Should I become a crime fighting superhero? Or an ace reporter for the Washington Post? Like a fly on the wall, I imagine I could eavesdrop on some pretty interesting political conversations.

The possibilities are endless!

See you next month but not vice-versa.

Michael Wright can’t be seen but you may find his footprints at
Circle B Bar Reserve in Polk County or at one of Florida’s sandy beaches. Send him
a letter written in invisible ink or email him at


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