The seagull peered suspiciously at me from between the iron railings; it’s head cocked, eyes a glitter with marine manifested malevolent intent. I scooted my bottom further down the bench to hide the orphans who were at play behind me, as I did I sneakily slipped behind the 99er I clutched in my hand. i was painfully aware that it was no Excalibur. Ironically, if I had thought Excalibur to be a 99er, I would also have been painfully aware of my mistake… These crazed thoughts rushed through my head as the seagull put forth a cry of creaking hinges to a graveyard gate, (going into the graveyard not out as this would ruin the aspect of impending doom/demise/wedding).
Things were getting serious, my ice-cream was melting by the second and I really didn’t want it to drip on my high tops, I peered about. There! A phone box. Praying that I wouldn’t be too late I rushed into the sweaty interior, shut the door and briefly read the slogans on my temporary chaining rooms glass walls.
“Lucy will do anything for a fiver” read one generous advert.
“Yeah right” I muttered, “Save the day? I doubt it.”
“Tom is a poo” read another.
“Tim does it up the…” but I tore my eyes away as, with a dread that plopped from my heart into my tummy, I saw the gull take to wing with a cry of terrible triumph and flap closer to the orphan children, who were blind deaf and dumb too, I forgot to mention that. They would have been laughing if they could, unaware of the feathered fiend slipping ever closer.
I changed, in the time it took you to read those two words. No longer did a man stand in this crypt of suggestive scribbles and telecommunication, but Renaissanceman, the super villain/hero (side dependent).
I exploded from the phone box, after calculating the dispersal pattern of the glass and metal frame as not to hurt anyone and minims cleanup/possible repair, (REPAIR WAS NOT A VIABLE OPTION!!), and flew at the devil bird.
A sqwork, an explosion of feathers, and he was destroyed… NO, she was… Anyway…
For a moment I stood… Okay, imagine the sun is going down as it makes the scene appear more dramatic and the ending of the day relates nicely to the ending of the story… I stood, at sunset, watching the deaf, dumb, blind kids, who were also orphans, and also very poor, smile happily, probably thinking of pin ball machines that they’d never afford… Never aware of their brush with the winged beast that now lay broken and defeated in my oven.
Gratitude is not something a super hero/villain (side dependent), craves, it is a sense of self achievement and to know, as he tucks into gull and chips with a helping of scrambled egged on the side, that things are right with the world… And everything was right with the world.