Friday Fictioneers time! No witty repartee beforehand this round, I’ve had a long week.
Hiding in Plain Sight
Everyone can hide, y’know? Just disappear while you’re staring straight at ’em.
The Sullivan sisters? They bury themselves under cushions; their legs tangle around each other, twisting into roots of an old oak as it pushes through the foundation of a busted-down house.
And Mike over there. You see him, yeah? The skinny guy in the blue shirt? He turns into a deep sea diver with that helmet of his. He’ll swim away any second now, just you wait and see.
As for me, well.
I ain’t standing next to you any more, now, am I?