Thomas breathed out a long, slow sigh as he stooped to retrieve his glasses from the sidewalk. One of the lenses was chipped. The chip was near the edge, though, so he could still wear them for now.
Until next time, of course, when something worse might happen.
(more)
This had been the third time. He'd been walking home after school, having just gotten off the train, when out of nowhere something had smacked him in the back of his head, knocking his glasses off. When he'd turned to see who had done it, there'd been no one there.
He couldn't tell Mom. She'd think he was making things up, that he'd just stumbled on a crack in the sidewalk or something. She always thought things had simple explanations like that. But this was real!
When Thomas got home he ran straight up to his room and got to work. He spent three hours straight practicing the movement, reaching up with lightning speed to grab at the air behind his head, honing his reflexes.
The next day, after getting off the train, he took a deep, calming breath and began to take slow, careful steps along the sidewalk. *Not this time,* he told himself. *Any second now...*
He heard a soft footfall. There! He flung his hand up behind him. His fingers met flesh, and he latched on.
There was a struggle, but Thomas held tight. When he turned around, he saw... nothing. He could feel the wrist in his hands, but no one was there.
"Hello?" he said.
"Lemme go!"
"You're invisible!"
"No duh. Lemme go!"
"What's your name?"
"Lyle..."
"I'm going to take you home to show my mom."
But even when Thomas made Mom put her hand on Lyle's wrist, she couldn't feel him.(less)
