Simple Unicycle
Izurich
Morden Man
Metropolis
Evelyn knew she was late, and peered nervously over her shoulder at the crying baby in the back seat. She was super late. That's all that was running through her mind as she braved the downtown Metropolis traffic. She was late and her boss was definitely going to give the promotion to Phillips if she wasn't on time for the meeting. But she had to drop the baby off at day care before she went to work. There was no way she'd be able to get someone at the office to keep an eye on her all day.
From the back seat, another wail from baby Laura drew her attention, causing her to miss the fact that the light in front of her had gone from yellow to red with surprisingly little time in between. By the time Evelyn's head came around, there was a car in front of her ready to be t-boned. Its driver too focused on their coffee to notice Evelyn's crossover SUV plowing into the intersection.
There was no time for her to swerve. This was it. She closed her eyes and thought of her baby, prayinig that at least she would be spared.
She felt the world shift under her, and was surprised that there was no sudden jolt or the sound of sheering metal. Maybe she died instantly and was on her way to the afterlife. That would be nice.
Opening her eyes, she found her vehicle drifting slowly back down to the pavement. It was a miracle. In the back seat, baby Laura gaped in amazement as a figure soared upwards away from the car.
**********
Jack's hand shook as he pointed it at the bodega clerk behind the counter, the empty bag he had thrown there still without any money in it. He didn't know if he or the small Korean teenager were more afraid. But he needed the money. If he didn't the Intergang thugs who threatened his pop's shop were gonna be mad, more mad than they'd ever been before. Might even burn the place down.
"I said put the money in the bag!" he screamed again, putting the gun even closer to the kid's head. He smelled the tell tale ammonia of the piss running down the clerk's leg.
Before anything could happen, a blur swept over his vision, just for an almost imperceptible second. He looked down, and the gun was gone, replaced by a still bubbling puddle of molten metal on the counter.
Still shaking, Jack turned and saw the tell tale blue and red. He was paralyzed with fear, "D-don't kill me man!"
"I don't do that," a calm, melodious, but powerful voice responded. Jack wasn't a religious man, but it was the kind of voice someone would have written a few things about if they heard it thousands of years ago. "Go home. Don't let me see you doing this again, or I won't be as nice."
"B-b-but Intergang is gonna-"
"You let me worry about that," the voice said, and Jack instantly knew it wasn't bluffing. He ran, never really getting a good look at the voice's owner.
*********
Joseph had decided to end it all the night before. Sitting over his measly, frozen pizza, he saw that there was little use in continuing the charade of a normal life. He was thirty-four, had been single for longer than half a decade, was stuck in a dead-end job, and could count how many friends, real friends, he had on one hand. Continuing on in this state, this joke of a life, was too much. Better a quick death than a long, slow one alone.
That's why when he woke up this morning he took a big swig of the cheap bottle of whiskey from the cabinet above the sink and made his way to the rooftop of his apartment building. If he jumped into the alley, he'd be able to do it without risking hurting anyone else. That was the last thing he wanted. He wanted to be done with all this, but he didn't want to go out hurting someone else.
He stepped up to the edge of the building and took a deep breath.
Before he could jump, however, a voice, like the most calming voice from the most calming children's television programming Joseph could ever imagine, cautioned, "Watch your step there. Wouldn't want to fall."
Joseph turned and saw the most striking image he had ever seen. There, standing on the ledge along with him, was a tall, well built man in what, if Joe didn't know better, he would have called red and blue pajamas. The man's strong, pronounced chin was cocked towards him, his kind, blue eyes transfixed on Joseph's, and a single curl of hair fell down from the well manicured cut onto his forehead and bounced in the wind. Joseph had heard the stories, and seen the news, but they did the reality of Superman no justice.
"I came up here to fall," he admitted, unable to look away from the Man of Steel.
"Yea, I kinda figured," the superhero smiled. "Doesn't seem like a great idea now, does it?"
"Best idea I've had in a while," Joseph shrugged. "No one's gonna miss me."
"Oh I very much doubt that," Superman smiled radiantly. "Someone's always gonna miss someone."
"I only got like three friends," the depressed man shook his head. "Barely any family."
"And none of them count as people who will miss you, huh?" the Man of Tomorrow smirked. "Sounds like you've got a whole bunch of folks who will miss you, to me."
"I'm just...so alone," Joseph began to cry. "And it wears on me, ya know? I just want...someone to share my life with."
He felt a big, strong arm placed around his shoulders, and Superman said, "You ever talk to those friends or family about this? I bet they'd be able to help you. That's what they're there for."
He shook his head, "Nah. Don't want to bother them with my troubles."
"I think you'll find they'd prefer hearing your troubles than hearing you threw yourself off a roof," Superman smiled sadly. "But let's make a deal, if you step back off this ledge and don't feel comfortable talking to them, I'll swing back tomorrow and we can chat. You and me."
Joseph was flabbergasted, "D-don't you have more important places to be?"
"What would be more important than helping out my new pal?" Superman smiled at him with the warmth of the sun, and Joseph felt like, for the first time in a long time, everything was going to be alright.
Smallville
Clark finished adjusting his tie, smirking to himself in the mirror. The powder blue strip of fabric contrasted nicely with the grey suit he now wore, the flower on his lapel matching. From the open window, he could hear the string quartet warming up in the backyard of the farmhouse. He was tempted to take a peak, but he knew better. Clark Kent was a man who savored the first experience of something, and he didn't want to rob himself of that.
He remember the first time, as a boy, that he had managed to fly. It wasn't for long, and he ended up crashing through half of old man Smith's corn crop. But the feeling of the air underneath him, coasting through the sky, was still one of the greatest feeling he had ever had. Something told him what was about to happen was gonna feel pretty similar.
A soft wrap on the door drew his attention, "Come in!"
From the other side came Jonathan Kent, his father. The man who had always looked like Clark's superhero growing up, now just looked like the platonic idea of a dad. His gut had started to poke up just a little, but the decades of farming still kept him looking strong. His hair was more salt than pepper, but the dark streaks were still thee. The one thing that never changed were his deep, brown eyes. They still held all the warmth and wisdom them always did.
The glisten of a teat came to those eyes as the elder Kent took a look at his son on his wedding day for the first time. He composed himself and smiled, "You made it."
"What are you talking about?" Clark did a terrible job hiding the blush that came to his face. "I've been here the entire time."
"Sure, boy," Jonathan smiled. "How many?"
Clark looked down at his feet, "Three in Metropolis. One here or there on the way home."
Pa Kent laughed warmly, "Son, this is why I'll always be proud of you. Even on a day like today you won't stop."
"Superman can't take a day off," Clark shrugged and did the final adjustments to his clothes. "You see everything going on, dad. I take a day off...and who knows what will happen."
"I know, son," Jonathan nodded. "Now let's go get you married."
"Dad, I've been waiting for this a long time."
