She made no move to continue dressing, though, so after a while her closet door slid open and another hanger floated out, this one holding a denim jumpsuit. After shrugging itself from the hanger, which returned to the closet, the jumpsuit filled out with curves somewhat more voluptuous than Paulette’s. It floated closer and reached out to Paulette as if to hug her. Paulette nudged the outfit she had been fondling, which obediently stepped away to allow the jumpsuit to approach.
Paulette raised her arms to embrace the jumpsuit also, allowing the suit to reach around her waist. She flinched as hands she didn’t see began tracing lines up and down the small of her back. Paulette, for her part, began squeezing the empty behind of the dress.
*These visitors must think I’m a real pervert, standing here fondling empty clothes,* Paulette thought to herself. *I’d better start getting dressed.* She pulled her arms from around the jumpsuit as decided to wear the white t-shirt and the brown jeans. The other items dutifully returned to their rightful places, all except the jumpsuit, which stayed in place as the unseen hands continued caressing Paulette.
“Sorry, but I really do have to get dressed,” Paulette said to the suit. Its shoulders drooped in a nonverbal pout as it floated over towards the closet. Paulette picked up the top she had chosen when something occurred to her.
“Oh, wait a minute,” she said aloud. “I forgot all about the bag of clothes I just washed.” With that, a large black duffel bag in a far corner of the room rose from the floor, unzipping itself when it reached the bed, and dumped its contents out onto the bed. The pile began to spread itself out so that Paulette could see each item that had been in the bag, as the bag lowered itself to the floor right next to the bed.
“Hmm, it’s still kinda cool to be wearing something sheer,” she mused. “Maybe I’d better wear something heavier.” With that she picked out a tan long-sleeved polo shirt and tan jeans. The wrinkles in both were plainly evident. “And of course, I didn’t iron anything right after I came from the laundry, like I should have,” she muttered. Paulette really wanted to ask the visitors to iron all the clothes laid out on the bed, but she knew that the more they did for her, the more “playtime” she would owe them. Not that the playtime wasn’t enjoyable; in fact, it was very enjoyable, most of the time. Occassionally, though, the play would go beyond enjoyable until it felt more like punishment or even work, and she never knew in advance which it was going to be. But then, she hated ironing with a passion.
“I hope I won’t be sorry for asking you to iron these for me now,” she said aloud. “All of them, not only the ones I’m gonna wear.” As the clothes began gathering themselves from the bed, Paulette’s favorite bathrobe floated out of her closet. She held out one arm, then the other as it slid itself onto her, then she followed the floating pile of clothing as it headed to the utility room, right next to the kitchen, to be ironed.
Paulette decided she would eat first, while her things were being ironed and folded, but first she stood at the doorway of the utility room to watch. She enjoyed the sight of the ironing board floating to the middle of the room and setting itself up, the water cup filling the iron, and the clothes floating one by one to the ironing board. For one thing it helped her in giving her a new perspective of how others saw (or didn’t see) her, though it wasn’t as startling as it was for most, since she was invisible to most herself.
While the clothes ironed themselves, she stepped back into the kitchen to get herself some breakfast. As she did, a cabinet door swung open and a bowl floated out. A spoon floated up from the dish rack — she was bad about putting dishes away after washing them, and for whatever reason the visitors hadn’t done it this time — and a box of Raisin Bran Crunch floated down from another cabinet. She was surprised that Bryan had left anything in the Raisin Bran Crunch box.
Just as the box had opened and was about to pour cereal into the bowl, she spoke up. “Um, I think I want to have a hot breakfast for once, maybe an omelet.”
She sat, rested her head on the table, and closed her eyes; she had always found the sounds of *someone else* cooking breakfast to be very relaxing. A few minutes later, something nudged her arm. She looked up to see a plate next to her arm, floating a couple of inches above the table, followed by a carton of orange juice, a glass and a fork.
While she ate, the Raisin Bran Crunch box, cereal bowl, and spoon floated back to their rightful places. She was just enjoying the taste of her food when fingertips began rubbing the left side of her neck. Without realizing it she began tilting her head in the opposite direction, as if to give the hand better access to her neck. The hand continued to play with her neck and ear as she ate, occasionally weaving itself through her hair. Soon there was a hand tending to each side of her neck and ear while another set of fingers gently combed itself though her hair.
That got her thinking. *Maybe I can get them to do my hair for me.* She’d always wanted to have her hair braided, especially since she saw how the singer Alicia Keys used to wear her hair, and she couldn’t very well go to a hairstylist who can’t see her. She knew she could count on her twin sister Robin, also invisible, but she felt like she leaned on Robin a little bit too much sometimes.
Just as her thoughts turned to her sister, her doorbell rang. As she approached, she could her her sister’s voice calling out, “Paulette, it’s me. Let me in.”