Gray Lady
Some say that she lives in the mountains. Others say that her home is an island off to sea. Still others say that she wears a hat and blends into the city streets like so many others. But no matter. She is the Gray Lady.
A vigilante of sorts, she brings supplies to lost or stranded travelers all around the land. She is as gray as an overcast winter day, gray as wool with no dye, gray like all the color had leached out of her.
In the snow she appears, trekking across the white, barely noticeable against the background. Sometimes on skis, else wise on snowshoes she comes, pulling a sled fulled with large bags full to the seams with things like warm clothes, food, and medicine. She stands some distance away and throws the bags to the people in need.
She appreciates thank yous. Any askance for her name will get a rueful smile and a apologetic refusal. But there are some who say she is called Kay.
No matter. She is the Gray Lady.
---
Vanishment
What to call it? An ability? A habit? A tendency? What? The doctors called it "Vanishment." The official definition was long and wordy, but the gist of it was this: a person with Vanishment could become functionally invisible. Not fully invisible; cameras could still record the person. But the people around the affected person would not be able to notice them.
Think about it, slipping out of meetings unnoticed, escaping bullies on the school yard, leaving when you want to from anything and anywhere. Useful, don't you think? I think so, at least.
They call me Ashwin, mostly. You may call me what you will, so long as I answer to it. I shall be gone from this place very soon. On to the next place, then on and on. Off and away. Ask me what you will while I am here. I can't promise to answer all of your queries though.
Fare thee well, stranger.
