remarkable, when we reflect upon his face, everything becomes a blank expression, age lines dissolve, scars diminish, he is no different as the light that casts his shadow. like regret, it all bleeds through. How? he asked himself. How did they discover me?

Possessing a name eclipsed by someone else proved to be a temporary diversion.

Through a peephole surrogate, the security camera granted Tim remote access. He watched as his uninvited visitor approached, a letter clenched between her fingertips. The envelope with habitual markings announcing his location.

Returning home, he’s confronted by her lingering scent - stale tobacco masked by crushed lavender. It was a warning.

Face planted in the artificial turf. Red lights flash against the plastered facade. Wrists tightly bound. but only by his persistence to recede into obscurity. Hungover in a holding cell. Deep abrasions score his right palm. He seems to recall an officer prying the beer bottle from his grasp, when he refused to let go.

The bad taste of yesterday still lingers on his tongue. He revisits those morning after’s shared by his ex: wisps of cigarette smoke dissipate from a trembling breath; her raspy insults dampened with each drag.

‘how can I help,’ a question she often repeats, and he, never answers.

Months after their abrupt breakup, he magnifies her frustration, sending out letters with no expectation of a reply. Handwritten apologies, politely avoiding what he really wanted to say. Familiar as his name may suggest, Tim in all his deceptive appearances is by no means a present figure. He has already become something removed from me and every day I am with him, that distance seems to grow.

Scheduled parades highlight the day as garbage trucks, postal carriers, pool cleaners, and gardeners pass through the quiet cul-de-sac.

Vertical blinds shield from horizontal discretions, making it difficult to distinguish the real from the simulated. A thrown voice to a ventriloquist delight and the dummy that believes the sounds made are all his doing. As he mouthed the words, nothing sprung from his lips, someone had already taken his place - lending a voice to the silence.

There was no inherent discrimination or monstrous distortion to be found, he was a man invisible by his own neglect.

It followed him, going after his best pursuits to shape a profile he would stagger to recognize. What footing he had left depended solely on another’s approval. Through those prying eyes, were the ones closest to him. He would run from the imagined dangers he had once perpetuated - scanning for headlights and headlines prompted by cues just offscreen.

Trying to catch up felt more like he was falling behind. His sense of timing prolonged by delays of waiting in the dark.

Backlit by a setting sun, he approached the parked car. Vacant. They’ll come back, he conceded.

Within minutes, insides were scattered along the paved asphalt into a noctural nightmare of pale white and blood red. What was easy to find during the day became lost to the night. Everything was within reach. Frequent visits became causal annoyances. The usual, rang out as a high pitch, no longer discernible and too deafening to appreciate.

like regret, it all bleeds through. How? he asked himself. How did they discover me?

Possessing a name eclipsed by someone else proved to be a temporary diversion.

Through a peephole surrogate, the security camera granted Tim remote access. He watched as his uninvited visitor approached, a letter clenched between her fingertips. The envelope with habitual markings announcing his location.

Returning home, he’s confronted by her lingering scent - cheap tobacco masked by crushed lavender. It was a warning.

Face planted in the artificial turf. Red lights flash against the plastered facade. Wrists tightly bound. but only by his persistence to recede into obscurity. Hungover in a holding cell. Deep abrasions score his right palm. He seems to recall an officer prying the beer bottle from his grasp, when he refused to let go.

The bad taste of yesterday still lingers on his tongue. He revisits those morning after’s shared by his ex: wisps of cigarette smoke dissipate from a trembling breath; her raspy insults dampened with each drag.

‘how can I help,’ a question she often repeats, and he, never answers.

Months after their abrupt breakup, he magnifies her frustration, sending out letters with no expectation of a reply. Handwritten apologies, politely avoiding what he really wanted to say. Familiar as his name may suggest, Tim in all his deceptive appearances is by no means a present figure. He has already become something removed from me and every day I am with him, that distance seems to grow.

Scheduled parades highlight the day as garbage trucks, postal carriers, pool cleaners, and gardeners pass through the quiet cul-de-sac.

Vertical blinds shield from horizontal discretions, making it difficult to distinguish the real from the simulated. A thrown voice to a ventriloquist delight and the dummy that believes the sounds made are all his doing. As he mouthed the words, nothing sprung from his lips, someone had already taken his place - lending a voice to the silence.

There was no inherent discrimination or monstrous distortion to be found, he was a man invisible by his own neglect.

It followed him, going after his best pursuits to shape a profile he would stagger to recognize. What footing he had left depended solely on another’s approval. Through those prying eyes, were the ones closest to him. He would run from the imagined dangers he had once perpetuated - scanning for headlights and headlines prompted by cues just offscreen.

Trying to catch up felt more like he was falling behind. His sense of timing prolonged by delays of waiting in the dark.

Backlit by a setting sun, he approached the parked car. Vacant. They’ll come back, he conceded.

Within minutes, insides were scattered along the paved asphalt into a noctural nightmare of pale white and blood red. What was easy to find during the day became lost to the night. Everything was within reach. Frequent visits became causal annoyances. The usual, rang out as a high pitch, no longer discernible and too deafening to appreciate.

like regret, it all bleeds through. How? he asked himself. How did they discover me?

Possessing a name eclipsed by someone else proved to be a temporary diversion.

Through a peephole surrogate, the security camera granted Tim remote access. He watched as his uninvited visitor approached, a letter clenched between her fingertips. The envelope with habitual markings announcing his location.

Returning home, he’s confronted by her lingering scent - cheap tobacco masked by crushed lavender. It was a warning.

Face planted in the artificial turf. Red lights flash against the plastered facade. Wrists tightly bound. but only by his persistence to recede into obscurity. Hungover in a holding cell. Deep abrasions score his right palm. He seems to recall an officer prying the beer bottle from his grasp, when he refused to let go.

The bad taste of yesterday still lingers on his tongue. He revisits those morning after’s shared by his ex: wisps of cigarette smoke dissipate from a trembling breath; her raspy insults dampened with each drag.

‘how can I help,’ a question she often repeats, and he, never answers.

Months after their abrupt breakup, he magnifies her frustration, sending out letters with no expectation of a reply. Handwritten apologies, politely avoiding what he really wanted to say. Familiar as his name may suggest, Tim in all his deceptive appearances is by no means a present figure. He has already become something removed from me and every day I am with him, that distance seems to grow.

Scheduled parades highlight the day as garbage trucks, postal carriers, pool cleaners, and gardeners pass through the quiet cul-de-sac.

Vertical blinds shield from horizontal discretions, making it difficult to distinguish the real from the simulated. A thrown voice to a ventriloquist delight and the dummy that believes the sounds made are all his doing. As he mouthed the words, nothing sprung from his lips, someone had already taken his place - lending a voice to the silence.

There was no inherent discrimination or monstrous distortion to be found, he was a man invisible by his own neglect.

It followed him, going after his best pursuits to shape a profile he would stagger to recognize. What footing he had left depended solely on another’s approval. Through those prying eyes, were the ones closest to him. He would run from the imagined dangers he had once perpetuated - scanning for headlights and headlines prompted by cues just offscreen.

Trying to catch up felt more like he was falling behind. His sense of timing prolonged by delays of waiting in the dark.

Backlit by a setting sun, he approached the parked car. Vacant. They’ll come back, he conceded.

Within minutes, insides were scattered along the paved asphalt into a noctural nightmare of pale white and blood red. What was easy to find during the day became lost to the night. Everything was within reach. Frequent visits became causal annoyances. The usual, rang out as a high pitch, no longer discernible and too deafening to appreciate.