Disappearing Act, Part XVII

Monday evening.

I am sitting at the corner drugstore.

The house is no longer there.

After coming back from the Association, I didn’t find anything more than a vacant lot. I asked the children who were playing there if they recognized me. They said they didn’t. I asked what had happened to the house. They said that they had been playing in the vacant lot forever.

The Association had no archives on me. Not one line.

That means that I don’t exist any more than one individual. Everything that I possess, everything that I am – my body, and the clothes that cover it. All of my identity cards have disappeared from my wallet.

My watch has disappeared as well. Without me realizing it. Off of my wrist.

It had an inscription on the back. I remember it.

To my dearest one with all my love. Mary.

I am in the middle of drinking a cup of coffee