Samantha Branch

                                                                                               If you could have any superpower, what would you choose? Someone at the table answers, invisibility. I’ve been invisible my entire life I think to myself.    I’ve been a shape shifter for as long as I can remember, melding and molding myself into various contortions to become whoever I need to be at any given moment in time. Forever a rule follower, I took the Scriptures a smidge too literally and did indeed die to myself. Quick to erase hurt feelings and sweep conflict under the rug, contentment is the name of the game. And by all appearances, I’m winning. Like a chameleon changing colors at a moment’s notice, I merge into whoever I need to be. Even I forget who I am, unable to answer simple questions about favorite foods or hobbies. I weave my way through life, only ever allowing people to skim the surface, scared that I’d be rejected completely if they knew who I really was. To be invisibl

Remember those Mystic Tan spray tanning booths? I’m 24 years old. I’ve stripped down to nothing except for a shower cap and I’m standing in the booth waiting to be sprayed with a freezing cold mist that promises to make me look like a freaking goddess. I push the button, but nothing happens. Panic. If I mess with this thing too much I run the risk of coming out looking more Oompa Loompa than goddess. I wait, then push the button again. Still, nothing. Shoot. I’m naked. The only person in here is a tanned body builder/male model who appears to be running this place, and I’ve spent the last of my “fun money” on this tan. I creep into the little room where I’ve left my clothes in a heap. I can’t very well walk out into the lobby like this, but also if I get this guy to come push this button and start this timed spray tan, I’m not going to have time to undress again. And that’s how I found myself butt naked, wedged behind the door yelling at a hot male model to come fix my Mystic Tan machi