I am an invisible man. Though invisibility

I am an invisible man. Though invisibility doesn't beget clairvoyance, I'm sure you're thinking that I must have used this power in all manner of sexual deviance and criminality.

But maybe I am projecting upon you things that I imagine you might project upon me. I am a house of mirrors that reflects no light. I am an invisible man invisibly bruised by

cellophane. If I talked to anyone for any amount of time, I would became invisible. My monotone voice allowed me to eat a free meal anywhere. No one could recall I was there.

It gets frustrating sometimes, though. I look into a person's eyes and I feel as if they're looking right through me. And, under the circumstances, they probable are.

Among the Quidach, emotions played out on the skin with chromatophoric cells. It's normal to know what others are feeling. So my chromatanemia really did make me feel invisible.

But of course I was cheating at Quidach. I'd installed a nitrous switch on the broom handle, sprinkled huge amounts of sneezing powder in the air and bribed the referee.

I bribed him with sweet lustful kisses behind the dumpster out back but I agreed to not go any further until the Quidach game is finished and I am champion. Only then will the ref

eree get some mouth-magic action. I was well versed in the art of licking peoples eyeballs and I was sure he would not be disappointed.

We should have had misgivings. The tongue and the eye, while both lubricated in bodily fluids, do not belong against one another. He now complains of permanent blurred vision.