Tell me, when you walk past me, and you acknowledge my good evening, do you actually know what I look like? Who am I? What do I wear? Am I a woman or a man? Am I bald maybe, or is my mane pinned back in a tight bun? Do I have blue eyes? Do I speak with an accent?
I am sure that you are unable to answer any of these questions.
Likewise I know that you have no idea what makes me tick. Nor should you because it is none of your business. Occasionally I will lift a tip of the veil, allowing you a glimpse into the world that is mine. A world that brightens up at night, and that is dull in the harsh daylight.
Mine is a world of disappearance.
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