SolarMan
The shroud of night engulfed Michael Hughes, it’s only opponent was a fading candle flickering on a sleek glass table. Around it were towers of beer bottles, making a city with the fading light as its centre. Michael stared sullenly at the moon’s twilight with a subtle look of inebriation. The air felt cold on his skin and the hair on his arms stood up straight. Slowly his gaze shifted to the ground, which was about 20 stories under him. In his eyes it didn’t look that far but he knew it was enough. He started to prop himself up on the railing, each movement with the slightest bit of hesitation. Finally Hughes stood up straight, shifting back and forth to gain his balance on the railway. His curly brown hair flapped from a gust of wind, the candle behind him following suit. The realization of just how drunk he was dawned upon Michael, his arms out and waiting to takeoff. Though his gaze never left the black pavement that awaited him, the cracks thirsty for his blood. The thought itself almost convinced him to climb down, but the depressed man stood his ground fighting the shake in his knees. His brown eyes closed from the fear and Michael forced pleasant memories to surface. He saw a dirty yellow bandana with crudely cutout eye holes lying on a desk. A pair of hands gently pick the cruddy mask up. Suddenly the shaking stopped. Two tense arms were now relaxed at his sides. A warm smile stretched across Michael’s face. The air no longer felt cold. The skin of his feet began to slide against the railing, as he let gravity take the wheel. Suddenly the screech of a young woman stopped his descent, his eyes flashed open as his ears were still ringing with the echo. He gave an annoyed look toward his back left. Sounds like it’s only a couple of miles away. Quickly Michael hopped off the pole, back onto his balcony, and headed inside. The candle on the table stood boldly now, withstanding the gust of wind hitting it. Then suddenly it went out, as smoke floated from a blackened wax stem. A golden blur stopped above the condominium and a man in a golden suit took form. A tattered spandex suit of varying golds covered Michael’s muscular body. Tired but focused eyes peered through a dirtied white mask with gold trim. A white cape flapped proudly in the wind as the letters S & W were boldly stitched in the center. The woman’s scream went off again, this time Michael pinpointed it, and in the blink of an eye he flew over to the other side of town to investigate.














