If the other disappears then you disappear, the cut in presence becomes no more than that, a narrow slit in which you could insert tab A, or extract tab B, it doesn't matter, there's no other side, no this side either. But how can the other disappear? There are faces and voices, so much going on, they are having a party, a debate, it's all so amusing, you strain to hear, wonder if your name will be called but it doesn't come. Nobody knows your name, or maybe you have no name, you seem to have forgotten. They are on the other side of the glass, muted, receding, self-sufficient; all that fun in a bubble floating gaily away. The steps are easy and your feet so light in the silence.