[This is a superpower.]
She looked at her would-be rescuer. He seemed to be confused about what to do next.
"We should not have come this far," he said. He tugged at the mask covering his face.
"Some superhero you are," she muttered.
He turned towards her. "Look," he said, "I'm doing my best. Do you think it's easy being a superhero? What about the event in my childhood that scarred me mentally, if not physically? What about the loss of my parents? What about my internal battle between hope and despair? What about the supervillians who stalk the streets of this caricature of New York City? Do you think that I chose this life?"
"I don't care what life you chose," she said. "I didn't ask you to rescue me. I didn't ask to be stuck in some alley in the dark and the rain. Why don't you use some of your superhero abilities and get me home, instead of standing around like an idiot?"
He said something very quietly that she couldn't hear.
"I'm waiting," she said.
He turned his back on her and stared into the darkness. It continued to rain.
"I don't even believe that you have any superpowers," she said.
He whipped around and stepped menacingly towards her. "You wouldn't understand," he snarled. "I've got 20/20 hindsight. Thanks to the accident in the factory, I always know exactly where I went wrong."
She shrank back in fear.
His anger seemed to evaporate. "This conversation got off on the wrong foot," he said.
Wednesday, March 5th, 2003
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© 2003 Karl Bailey.