Friday Fictioneers-The Invisible Man


coyright-Al Forbes

Cars whiz past the invisible homeless man seated in front of the library. Even the bust of Hermes above the door dismisses him.

Gnarled hands clutch a Styrofoam cup. Hot liquid replaced with chump change. The giver’s eyes always downcast; desiring not to connect. They are worried his obscurity might adhere to them.

He was a husband and father once, and delighted in holding his newborn child. Addiction displaced his family and dreams.

Car horns blast, as a passerby drops change into his cup. The kind eyes of a little girl meet his gaze.

‘Thank you miss.’

‘You’re welcome sir.’

100 words/Genre: Hell, I don’t know.

Thank you Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting Friday Fictioneers. It tickles me to death to write with such a great group of writers. Please be sure to go to her page and read their stories too. We are a rather eclectic group and the genres run the gamut.

I welcome kudos and criticism. Thank you so much for reading.

27 thoughts on “Friday Fictioneers-The Invisible Man

  1. Dear Renee,

    This may very well be your best flash fiction ever. In fact my screen’s blurred and making it hard to type. Lovely story, my dear. Full of pathos. In few words you’ve rounded out this character and what brought him to this place in life. Genre: Tearjerker, Tender Fiction. 😉



    • Dear Rochelle,

      I’m deeply touched by your comment. It means the world to me. You have no idea how hard I worked on this story today. I’d written about three different versions, when this story came to me in a dream last night.

      Do you think it’d be good enough to submit to Narrative Magazine? They’re tough on writers. But I think this story may make it.

      I’ll be sure to edit the genre. Thanks again my sweet friend. xoxoxoxoxoxo

      Love, Renee

  2. “They are worried his obscurity might adhere to them” is an apt indictment of people on the street. Excellent story, darling.

  3. Oh, this one hurts, in a way that we need to be hurt. It wasn’t very long ago that we prided ourselves on the fact that street beggars were for poor countries, not a problem to be seen here. And now we hurry past them, trying not to wonder what their story is, whether they were like us once.

    • The thing is honey, they are like us. Even broken and homeless on the street, they are. I’m alcoholic. This could have happened to me. Thankfully I’m in recovery.

      I’ve had the chance to sit with a homeless vet in downtown Detroit, MI last summer. It was a humbling experience. He was something. Smart and funny. I call him from time to time.

      Love, Renee

  4. Beautiful story, Renee! Through the simple though honest eyes of a child, the humanity and decency of the shabby man is seen, even though all the rest of us miss it or hope to avoid it.

    And on a more serious note, when am I going to get to tickle you to death?

    • Dear Perry,

      Thank you for your sweet comment. I’m glad you liked the story so much. I really liked it too. I was worried that the ending was weak. Turns out, it was strongest yet.

      Honey if you’re ever in Michigan, you can tickle me anytime.

      Love, Renee

  5. Pingback: A Final Rendezvous With Renee | Rendezvous With Renee

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