He was disappearing. It didn’t happen overnight. The process was slow–but steady. Each new day another part was missing. At first, it wasn’t noticeable, but eventually the mirror reflected an absence where once there was substance. Friends began to disappear from his life. People on the street looked past him, avoiding any contact. The plans he made slowly collapsed into disarray. Simple tasks like washing dishes or cleaning the carpet never really took hold–he couldn’t keep up with the mess. He couldn’t remember where anything was stored around the house. Familiar items simply disappeared. There was less of him everyday–less of the life he once lived–no artifacts–no reminders–no memories. He tried to retrieve some of the missing parts. He tried to make an impression by waving and shouting at people in the street, but they stared as if he wasn’t there. No one paid attention to him–it was like a message that cut into his mind like acid. One day he no longer remembered his name–he no longer saw his reflection in a mirror–he disappeared completely.