by John Parke Davis
No one called him Superman, but he knew he could fly. So one day, he wheeled himself out to the bridge. He attached some ropes to a harness with caribiners, attached the harness to a trestle, put his arms out before him, and leapt. The world shimmered beneath him, the greens and blues of the river, the boulders on the bank like pebbles. He laughed once, before the harness yanked him down, and he rocked to a stop beneath the iron pylons. For the rest of his life, he would wonder what would have happened if he had taken that harness off, but he never did try it.
John Parke Davis cannot fly, but he does have a disturbing fascination with sad superhero stories. His work has appeared in Ideomancer, flashquake, and Shimmer Magazine, among others. He and his brother run a not-for-profit story gallery at The Story Game, and he has a blog that he would love to have you come visit. John is the author of Wolf at the Door.