Simon

he was gorging on fat-spread on toast with tea, but not at the same time, the bread absorbed too much liquid and felt odd, not good.
he was trying to think of something to do or a reason to leave the room. but it was difficult. it was only 10 days until the fight and he was shitting himself.

weeks earlier he'd been running in hyde park, no one could see him but he was there, watching her.

her with her eyes and cheeks, vibrating there set against the green of the grass and the ambience of laughter. she would have looked quite different if she knew Tom was there. and he would have had to leave. i don't know whether he'd have been told to or would have gone on his own accord but it didn't matter. fact was he was there and tom wasn't. tom lost the motivation to keep jogging. somehow fat-loss-brad pit-pecks were of little significance. and everything else too.

as it happened, 'nothing' became quite a safe haven. he did nothing for a long while. just managing to speak to the odd human here and there, to make not a big deal of his invisibility. He was afterall turning see through.

he first noticed it in the shower, where most things are first noticed. he inspected his toes, one nail seemed to be missing. the red bare flesh all full of blood, but as he touched it nervously it felt just like the other toes that had nails. then his cock disapeared. just for a second, then it came back. he fell over and pulled the curtain down around him in sheer fear. 'what the hell was happening?'
he got dressed and went back to his watching television. it wasnt turned on but he didnt seem to care. the duvet on his bed was still warm and felt comforting. he snuggled into a foetus shape and fell asleep. whilst he was asleep, unbeknown to him, his whole body glowed a bright gold colour and it filled the room. passers by hated this as it glared in their computer screens, the ones hooked up around their faces like orthadontics, and interupted their youtube sessions. It happened everytime he went to sleep but no one ever told him. And now he's dead.

tom achieved pretty much nothing in his life. he made small sacrifices for people but on the whole felt like a selfish cunt. confirmed by a few key players in his world. they would say @actualy tom, you're a bit of a selfish cunt@. he would grab the fags from the shelf and light up 50 at once, sticking them into his lung port for maximum relief. but it wasnt enough. he had to leave.

that particular day tom got married to a woman. he didnt really want to or have much say in it but never the less it happened. tom felt like much of his life was moving for him without his saying so. he met her at a tractor enthusiast club where disabled people would come and smile at each other. they were the only two at the party who could walk so naturally they hooked up in the porta loo outside. Mrs. So-and-So saw what was going on but the two lovers were passionately lifted to a higher plain and could not see normal things anymore, like social obligations, politeness and empathy etc. they went home together and formulated a plan. they were going to blow up the world.

tom woke up to the smell of cat urine and he prayed right then to god. it would break his wish to reveal what he said exactly but it was along the lines of, 'i hope she can be happy'. and then he cried quite a bit.

during this manic episode he grabbed his telephone and made the arrangements - tom was going to fight himself to the death.

the morning of the fight came and it was as if he had just woken up beside the ring. 10 days had passed by, he'd eaten, trained hard, slept, got dressed, all the normal things and got himself to the stadium without even consciously realising it.

now the crowd grew hungry for blood. tom shook with excitement. he'd been waiting for this day all his life he realised. his eyes were wide, sweat already dripping, for it was 90 degrees celcius in the ring. he wore a blue spandex suit, tie and everything. he removed the tie in case he'd be choked by it and began to bounce around in a circular motion, waving his fists in an intimidating mannor, gritting his teeth. people screemed things, it wasn't important what, they just did, it was noise to tom, noise. and he loved it!

as tom ducked and dived, counter attacking his own blows the dissapearing act began again. he swang a left upper cut and just as the fist flew towards his chin it completely vanished, tom didnt have a fucking chance. he was nocked clean unconscious. as he flew through the air the crowd went quiet, reduced to whispers now. he hit the ground.

9 weeks later we were all crawling around on all fours. Our skin a shade of grey, covered in silky fur. Our jaws made long and disfigured. Our spines they grew some tails. people would come from the city, to see us perform in the ring. tom became a statue in the centre of the stadium and never saw the girl again.