I am the Boy that can Enjoy Invisibility

There exists vivid life beneath the silvery spin, an infinite reality to which we are but a sliver. The sea’s swallow and the pillowing pasture’s suffocation looms on the horizon. Are we nothing but fish in a swathing net? Dressed in layers upon layers of netted tights, spun in circle sweaters and pants, and draped in billowing cloth, Matteo is cloaked. Are his hands’ grip on the ship’s ropes merely an illusion of control? He screams out. It’s drowned to less than a whisper, a sound no more real than the invisibility echo. Like sound, our own existence might depend on what’s around us. His surroundings are ineffable, and in them he can make himself imperceptible. He too might lie tangled in nature’s netted folds. The tempting flood sings out.

He refuses to be reduced to the sea's voice. He strips away all that entangles him. He rests his body against the earth’s sage blanketed breast, breathing with it. He swings from the ship’s poles as its cerulean paint chips onto his palms. His handprints anchor him here, despite their fading. The soles of his feet slip on cool rocks, rolling with the waves. The lens is the centre in which he is captured. Looking into the lens, he sees a boy that can enjoy invisibility.