Samuel as a child dreamed of having a superpower. Oh, to be able to fly like superman, no correct that; to be able to jump through the air at supersonic speeds helping anyone in trouble like Superman, had to be the greatest superpower of all. But today, as Samuel sat on a bus bench outside city services center, holding a paper with the word “rejected,” stamped on it more times than he cared to see, it suddenly came to him that maybe he did have a superpower; he was invisible. From his bench he could see other homeless in various stages of becoming invisible as well. Like the mother getting on the bus with the small toddler in tow that had been in line ahead of Samuel at city services earlier. He had caught bits and pieces of her story as she explained her landlord was evicting everyone to make way for a new condominium and she had no where to go. The clerk half listening sipping a three fifty cup of Starbucks stared ahead as if right though her and offered no sympathy; just instructions that all complaints of eviction without notice are filed across town at the mayors office. Two other guys Samuel knew from the shelter were milling around the back of the Chinese restaurant across the street waiting for the lunch garbage to be thrown out. Dumpster diving was always best done with two. Christ you get in and you might not get out, plus it always helped to have someone hitting the dumpster with a stick to scare the rats out. Holding his hand out in the warm afternoon sun, Samuel thought he could see right thought his arm. A bus stopped but failed to open the doors and drove off without noticing him.