All For Cause

In a world teeming with superheroes, the term “villain” gets tossed around too much. Applied way too often.

And, normally, it gets applied where it isn’t applicable at all.

What makes a hero a better than a good Samaritan? Better than a good citizen? More than just someone doing the right thing?

The answer might surprise you if you’ve never thought about it.

Additionally, the answer mirrors the answer to the question:

What separates a villain from a criminal? Someone nefarious? A no-good person? Someone who’s rotten?

What separates them? Where do we draw the line?

What’s the difference?

If you’ve never thought about it before…

Well.

I’m sure the answer will surprise you. Continue reading “All For Cause”

Failure to Fly

Sky blue.

I remember being young and seeing it from afar. That infinite mass of cool, kind blue. Watching as they rose to meet it—soaring far above me. Touching the white fluff as they went. Seeking out that calm, soft blue.

Steady.

Beautiful.

Accepting.

That blue that spoke for days upon days about the grandness of the heavens, the glory of the skies.

When I was young, I remember looking up and watching. Mesmerized as the others rose, greeting that serene baby blue.

And I remember thinking:

One day, I won’t just be looking.

One day, I’ll reach it, too.

That’s what wings are for, after all.

Reaching for the sky.

Continue reading “Failure to Fly”

Fail or Fly

“So… you’re—what? Just going to try it out? Right here? Right now? On yourself? No beta, no guinea pig? Just you jumping from a cliff with a pair of fake wings strapped to your back?”

“Yep!” I replied, tightening the strap around the back. The one that would keep me in control of the contraption.

My flying, wooden contraption.  Continue reading “Fail or Fly”

When the Sky Opened Up

It was the end of the world, they said.

Burning acid rain spewed from the hole the sun had bitten into the atmosphere, searing the surface of the planet. Scorching a line across the equator, merciless as it combed its rays over the land closest to it. More than likely, to the sun, the lands at the equator felt like an offering—so close, so dense, so populated.

Lots of people lost their lives that day.

Lots.

And yet, somehow…

We survived.

Mankind, as a whole, I mean.

Honestly, everyone thought that that would be the end of it. When the sky opened up, nobody expected to survive—no one. We thought that was it for all of us. That the planet was doomed.

But.

Clearly:

That wasn’t the case.

That day, I stood, watching the sky. Feeling the heat waves engulf the planet. Rolling over us, though we were so far north—so far from the sun’s gaze. I stood and saw the glare, the sweltering fingers that razed the land, that evaporated portions of the ocean, that decimated our numbers.

I saw it.

I saw the sky open up.

And, just as it was then, it’s the same now:

I’m not afraid. Continue reading “When the Sky Opened Up”

Shadow of the Stars

“Do you expect the light to return, simply because you wish for it? Should the earth bow so easily to your whims? Plunge others into discord to sate your despair?”

I flinched, convicted. Conflicted.

Part of me said yes. The part that was not made from stars. That longed for something other than the dark. That wished for the sun to return so I could warm myself against its gently sizzling beams. Those rays that would warm my soul like nothing else could. That part of me was foolish. That part affirmed.

Part of me said yes.

But, the other part?

Of course, it was more reasonable.

Even under the the heaving dark, amassing with stars. Corralling light and shadow together to create the beauty that dusted the heavens. Even as oppressing as the earth’s darkness was—as boastful, as ravenous—still.

Part of me said no.

…the correct part, more than likely. Continue reading “Shadow of the Stars”

Through the Snow

When I shudder, it’s not because it’s cold.

It’s summer now. Summer, in this muggy, swamp heat. Here, the sun drools on us, breathing hot ragged breaths over our necks. Dragging us across hell’s palm. Scalding us the moment we step outside.

No, I don’t shudder because it’s cold.

I shudder because it isn’t supposed to be cold.

And yet, here I am. Feeling that hand creep across my back. Tracing the outline of my clothes. Clawing to get into my system. Wanting to dig deeper. To tear into me.

I don’t shudder because it’s cold.

I shudder because it’s apparent:

The cold has been brought to me. Continue reading “Through the Snow”

Breaking From The Pond

I was on a ship.

And it wasn’t mine.

I was on a ship, stuck in a pond, forced to watch the sun dip behind the ocean, all while stuck on this ship that wasn’t mine, in a pond that was unfamiliar to me, in a land that I only knew from a dream long ago.

I was stuck on this ship.

In this pond.

Watching the sun set over the horizon. Promising stars and guidance on the other side of the skyline. Out there, in the wild of the ocean, I could sail. Guided by thousands of burning lights.

But…

I was stuck.

On this ship that wasn’t mine.

In this infinitesimally small pond.

Int his land that was completely foreign to me.

No, this ship, and this pond, and this land… it definitely wasn’t mine.

It was his. Continue reading “Breaking From The Pond”

Between the Bluffs

The hardest thing about falling in a canyon is:

Getting out. Continue reading “Between the Bluffs”

Flying, Falling, and The In-Between

It’s not that I’m afraid.

…I’m not.

…really, I’m not.

It’s just that…

Well.

What happens if it doesn’t work? What happens if I fall and I don’t catch myself?

What happens if I jump, and don’t fly?

Continue reading “Flying, Falling, and The In-Between”

Inferno

It was dispassionate.

People lived their lives, moving like ants. Robotic, focused. Standing in line, following orders, doing what they were instructed. Moving wholly and completely within the confines of what was created for them.

As I said:

Like ants.

Moving through an ant farm.

This world created falsely. A controlled environment.

Fake.

The world isn’t like that.

Not at all.

The world wasn’t meant to be so dispassionate. So hungry.

Man was not mean to be so greedy.

And when the skies fell?

When the earth shook?

The mountains flowed with bubbling, roiling rage?

They realized that.

Or:

They perished.

We were not meant to be so dispassionate.

We were meant to be more.

We weren’t meant to watch for saviors, or wait for hope to be delivered on a platter. Weren’t meant to be idle, or vacant.

We were meant to be heroes.  Continue reading “Inferno”