Basil sat alone, his body invisible and his clothes
perfectly visible and against some peoples sensibilities. He'd spent several days at this and it wasn't getting him anywhere. Focusing on the issue seemed to just make it 'worse'. Basil sighed and stretched out his arms above his head, falling back.
It was hopeless. He'd tried this before and it didn't help then either. Whatever triggered it to stop seemed to be deep seeded and buried down in there in some fashion that wasn't connected to muscle memory. Nothing had put it back the way it was before, so why did he think it would work now?
For the moment, an empty slightly offensive tank top, exercise shorts, and a
pair of trainers laid motionless there on the floor.
((Open))