A part of the city between the financial zone and the waterfront. Smell of the ocean behind tall glass buildings which give way to brick built warehouses and weed grown streets. 

Once this was a busy neighborhood. Now quiet and neglected after the demise of the docks. Still a couple of grocery stores, a pawn shop, a shuttered bar, a barber shop.

You can only find this place by drifting. It's impossible to walk directly here. You must first surrender yourself to the tides of the city. Takes years to do it. Slowly, the tides will take you here. 

One day you'll find yourself looking into the window. packed with racks of clothing. Overcoats, shirts, jackets, suits. Silvery grey dust on the glass. The proprietor's spectacles reflecting dim yellow light as he moves around behind the counter. 

You go in, look down the racks of clothing, find a grey suit. It always fits.

You take the suit back to your apartment, put it on. Somehow, the light is behind you in the mirror. You're only a silhouette. Feel a sensation of stillness. Something has shifted. Sounds of the city humming outside, traffic, voices, faces. 

You don't realize that you are lost. A drift. Being like this for years without knowing. 

Slowly things moved away bit by bit. 

You barely noticed.

You go out, tides moving you down the avenues. Sit in a cafe watching the patterns in passing crowds. Waiter never comes for payment. 

After a while, you seem to fade out. Sky reddens over the city. You don't need to move much.

Traffic swirls stills. Intermittent cars passing. You move off the along the lit avenues under broad summer trees disappearing in the dusk.

Next day you examine the material of the suit's sleeve in clear morning light. It looks grey, but if you look very closely in good light, you can just see that the threads are all made up of brightly colored fibers. Red, green, violet, yellow, blue, orange, all in various combinations. Millions of colors. Together, they all look grey from a normal viewing distance. 

When you wear the suit you begin to disappear. 

You can go anywhere and you will barely be noticed. 

After a slight initial interruption in everyone's field of awareness, you fade out.

You come to know that the fabric is a map of all movements in the city. Everyone's crisscrossing journey all through the streets, corridors, rooms, subways. Feel the effects as you move down the avenues. Endless shifting and repeating patterns and rhythms. Tides moving through you. 

You walk the streets woven into the fabric. You feel them somehow. The suit shows you how to move. Translates, transmits. The tides move through it. You go on in a voyage through the streets.

It is the lost suit. The great forgotten book of the city. It is woven all through you, and you are incorporated into it.

Misty morning. Breakfast in a glass fronted coffee shop. Then you go down fifth avenue through the atrium up to the rooftops and look out over the great city. 

You will get lost many times in your life and you will find this suit and wear it until it fades. It will always fit. It will weave itself into you and you will make its fabric more complete and more complex. The more complex the weave, the more tiny colors in the grey, the more it makes you disappear. 

Vast illuminated city. Glowing streets from above moving over into intersecting roadways. Glass fronted parades, figures walking, crossing roadways, passing in and out of buildings. Long layers and sections of structures looking into passing floors of buildings. Colors of carpets, walls, flooring, clothing. Transparent, translucent structures dark and lit internally. People streaming through the architecture floor to floor. Escalators, elevators, some way through all these cities. 

Sometimes you forget. 

You lose your way.

He looked down at his hands. The suit in a dim shop. 

You will wear it and pass unnoticed through the crowds. 

For many years you will like a shadow. Then someone will see you. Will touch your hand and you will begin to reappear. Become more distinct. Face less blurred. Slowly, you begin to notice the change of seasons. The weather. Become more visible. 

Years later you will be living somewhere else in some suburb of another city. The sun will be shining. You will have forgotten the suit. It will be overlooked in the wardrobe somewhere. Thrown away. Given to charity. 

When you tried it on once, you could barely remember. Marginal episodes rapidly fading. The color was dull and it didn't fit very well. The fabric looked worn. Time for a change now.

The ghosts go out and fade in the sunlight.

The person who wore the suit is now gone.