Gladys never liked being invisible much. It was interesting, she’d give it that: it was, after all, something she had always wanted. Now, whenever she tripped into a room, no one noticed. Now, she would never have to meet new people. Now, clothes were optional and less stressful. These aspects lived up to the hype and more. The box didn’t lie: she did feel like a completely new person!
It was around when she realized it was permanent that she became less satisfied. The panic one would think would squeeze your heart upon the realization that you will be invisible forever did not hit, however. It was more of a slow burn. But Gladys always had been a level headed and logical person: she knew it was no use to lose herself, especially now that her physical self was no more. But, it turns out being invisible is not all it’s chalked up to be. Now, whenever she tripped into a room, no one could catch her. Now, she would never get to meet new people. Now, what was the point of getting dressed anyway?
In response to Rebecca's poem in the comments:
Blood beneath the street
Breath in the wild air
Run now, hard and fast and free
Grasp that shadow - it is you