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It is a different kind of Vanishing Game she is playing now, to dress in clothes meant for another woman, of another build and another time. To move among all these people as if she were one of them, even while knowing, deep down, that she is not one of them. That she is separate, somehow. That she is still alone.
Paranoia is itself a kind of contagion. Humans are predisposed to it. I have long held that it is a learned behavior from our primitive ancestors, a defense mechanism. Cautious humans stay alive longer than incautious ones.
Perhaps the world had always been a cruel, savage place, and now, at least, the truth was out in the open. It no longer needed to be his own private misery, a dark secret eating him from the inside.
