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I’m flying. I’m above the clouds where the weather is always fine, cold and thin. It’s up here surrounded by the pinks and oranges of the constant sunset where I have the revelation.
I can’t hear the screaming. I’m surrounded by the fire with a car door in my hand. I couldn’t save them.
The doctors didn’t know what would happen to the baby. They said that it was unpredictable. My genes were raised in a facility. They had no idea what mixing my matter with a regular unaltered human’s would do.
Nancy died. The baby died later. It punched its way out of her. It was three months premature. It died right there on the living room floor beside Nancy. I think the worst moment of my life was coming home to that scene with a chocolate cake under my arm.
I’m banking now and following the meridian of dusk, watching down through the clouds as big cities on the coast and then smaller cities in the interior prepare for dinner. Lights come on as the world dims for them. I weave back and forth on either side of the blurry divider between light and dark. The lights make a nice mosaic of streets and population density.
The clouds part and for a moment I feel like I’m underwater looking up at a reflection. Stars above me and stars below. I can look back at the sun just barely peeking up over the crest of the earth.
It gets cold so I let flames of re-entry heat me up for a little before a steeper descent back home.
They say I’m invincible. They’re dead wrong. I’m talking less, giving fewer press conferences, and there are circles under my eyes. That concerns people most of all since I don’t sleep.
I had heard their screams a second after the sound of the explosions. They were the closest thing that I had to parents. Professor Jackson and Doctor Maryland. They had met, courted, and married while working on the formulas and splice-tech that would eventually result in me. I flew to their rescue way too late. Nothing could have saved them. Espionage.
When I get back to my home, I look at it one last time before burning it to the ground with red beams from my eyes.
I am done with saving people. They go back to their destructive ways right after I save them. If anything, my presence has made ‘base’ humans more reckless since there’s a chance that I’ll save them if they get themselves in danger.
I can’t stop their stampede towards a greed-fueled self destruction. I’m not smart enough.
I am going to disappear. I will live in alleys and dress in rags. I am done.
tags
I can’t hear the screaming. I’m surrounded by the fire with a car door in my hand. I couldn’t save them.
The doctors didn’t know what would happen to the baby. They said that it was unpredictable. My genes were raised in a facility. They had no idea what mixing my matter with a regular unaltered human’s would do.
Nancy died. The baby died later. It punched its way out of her. It was three months premature. It died right there on the living room floor beside Nancy. I think the worst moment of my life was coming home to that scene with a chocolate cake under my arm.
I’m banking now and following the meridian of dusk, watching down through the clouds as big cities on the coast and then smaller cities in the interior prepare for dinner. Lights come on as the world dims for them. I weave back and forth on either side of the blurry divider between light and dark. The lights make a nice mosaic of streets and population density.
The clouds part and for a moment I feel like I’m underwater looking up at a reflection. Stars above me and stars below. I can look back at the sun just barely peeking up over the crest of the earth.
It gets cold so I let flames of re-entry heat me up for a little before a steeper descent back home.
They say I’m invincible. They’re dead wrong. I’m talking less, giving fewer press conferences, and there are circles under my eyes. That concerns people most of all since I don’t sleep.
I had heard their screams a second after the sound of the explosions. They were the closest thing that I had to parents. Professor Jackson and Doctor Maryland. They had met, courted, and married while working on the formulas and splice-tech that would eventually result in me. I flew to their rescue way too late. Nothing could have saved them. Espionage.
When I get back to my home, I look at it one last time before burning it to the ground with red beams from my eyes.
I am done with saving people. They go back to their destructive ways right after I save them. If anything, my presence has made ‘base’ humans more reckless since there’s a chance that I’ll save them if they get themselves in danger.
I can’t stop their stampede towards a greed-fueled self destruction. I’m not smart enough.
I am going to disappear. I will live in alleys and dress in rags. I am done.
tags