The Woman Who Wasn't There

 

“I am putting the money on the counter. The woman should be by with the Dylan tickets soon."

 

She paused at the door and looked back at her husband. He was frozen in front of their high definition television. His eyes focused on the screen. Had he heard her? He hadn’t heard anything she’d said about the Internet being down. What was she doing wrong? Why didn’t people hear her anymore?   

 

It had been a difficult week. It had begun with the  Legislative Conference. She had spent hours and hours of standing in a 10x10 foot booth in front of PowerPoint presentations about investments and taxes. She’d worked hard preparing the slide shows, but no one paid any attention to them. They were invisible. Just like she was.

 

Hundreds of men walked by her booth picking up the candy and pens that were spread out on the table in front of her. They were big men – white men. If a Martian landed at the  Hilton during the conference they would think that all earthlings were white males over 6 feet tall with beer guts and ugly neckties.

 

"I wonder what are these for?" they asked each other, picking up the red white and blue pill holders that were scattered on the table with the candy and the pens and the unread literature.

 

"They are pill cases – or contact lens cases – or hearing aid cases – or they could hold your fly-fishing nibs," she answered as the walked away.

 

She felt like a trinket salesman instead of an insurance agent – and she felt invisible. She forced herself to laugh at their hackneyed jokes about Viagra and amused herself by making pyramids out of little pill cases. She introduced herself to other vendors – insureds – prospects – many of whom she’d met before - some several times. None of them remembered her. She felt invisible.

 

The nametag didn’t help. She went over to the button man across the aisle and bought a pin that read "Melody Supports The Employee Free Choice Act” and pinned it to her bright yellow golf shirt next to the one that read "Melody Vanilla – Exhibitor".   She still felt invisible.

 

She hated the way she was dressed. On Friday they had all agreed to wear the golf shirt with the company logo emblazoned on it and black pants. She was the only one that had remembered to wear the "uniform". She was logo’ed from head to foot and felt like a Cafferty Inc. action wear doll.  

When she complained, her colleagues had said they hadn’t heard discussion about the uniform. Just like her husband hadn’t heard her mention the lady that was dropping off the Dylan tickets or the fact that the Internet was out.

 

Maybe she really was becoming invisible. She had first experienced invisibility in the grocery store. People would push their carts right into her path like she wasn’t there. The same thing occurred on the subway platform and in the line at Starbucks.

 

She hadn’t always been invisible. She was sure of that. She remembered in her 20’s and 30’s she had been perfectly visible. She had begun fading in her 40’s. By the age of 50, irreversible invisibility had set in. Now she was becoming inaudible. Invisible and inaudible. Soon her scent would go and not even her dogs would know she was there.

 

The next morning she had to remind her husband to drop her off at the corner. He had forgotten she was in the car. She walked up the street toward her office. Several people bumped into her as though she wasn’t there. She said good morning to Maria who was polishing the brass in the lobby just like she did every morning, but Maria acted as though she didn’t hear her.

 

She stepped into the elevator and pushed her floor but the button didn’t light up. She tried again. Nothing. Two of her co-workers got on the elevator. They pushed seven. It lit up and the door closed. They kept talking to each other as though she wasn’t there. It had finally happened. She was totally invisible. She sat down on the floor of the elevator and began to cry. No one noticed. She rode up and down for several hours. No one noticed. She wasn’t there.

Reviews

[Wolfwind Words]

What a tragic story. Well writen, it deffinantly brought across the idea of what it would be like to fade into existance. If i had been her, i would just sit down and cry to. Very good work here! I'd love to see if she ever becomes visable again. Some epic journey maybe??? :)