How I Disappeared Once upon a time, a long time ago,
someone told me that if you make a wish on
the first star you see on the first night of
summer it will come true.
On the first night of summer I began
scanning the sky for stars at 4:00 in the
afternoon.
We ate dinner at a splintery picnic
table; charred steaks and wiltleafed garden lettuce
that we'd managed to salvage from the rabbits.
I spilled raw corn down my open throat
and scanned the sky for stars.
I lay on the grass and an ant
bit my toe and I watched for the star.
[switch places with following paragraph [sic]]
My sister and some friends started playing
a delightful combination of hide-and-seek and
firefly catching.
When the first star finally came out I
almost forgot to breathe. And I wished to
be invisible. And I ran inside up the
ratty brown stairs to my room and no one said a
word to me.
I looked in the mirror and no one
looked back. I forgot to ask to be
invisible to others.  ¶ 12:44 AM