There were seventeen witnesses in the tavern that night. Mute most of them, some in tears. The bar smelt like cigarette smoke and stale wine. We took statements for over two hours and when it was over, we compared notes. It made young Frank vomit what they said. The slow disintegration. One of them described it as evaporation. Another as fragmentation, dissolution. The youngster said, “She just kind of went invisible.” All they could really remember about the woman in the mink coat with the glass eye, was fact that she didn’t really exist anymore.