He wasn’t walking to work so much as marching, his polished-smooth black loafers clicking and resounding noisily against chewing-gum-laden pavement. He had his briefcase, and his tie, and his shirt pressed crisp till it looked like it might crack at the seams. He felt important. The train ride over had been slightly unusual–his Brahms-blasting headphones had stopped him from hearing anyone on board, but he … Continue reading THE INVISIBLE ONES