“I doubt it.”
Another day she pointed at my hair.
“It somehow gets worse every time I see you.”
“Good morning to you too.”
“Hm,” she said approvingly. “You almost sound alive today.”
She was not sweet.
Not exactly.
But she noticed things.
And when you spend your entire life invisible, being noticed can feel dangerously close to being loved.
Part 2
One cold afternoon, I was walking home carrying grocery bags when Mrs. Rhode called out to me from behind her front fence.
“James!”
I stopped.
She stood wrapped in a thick cardigan, looking irritated by the weather itself.
“You live nearby?” she asked.
“A couple houses down.”
