From the Blog of Exceptional-Man
number of lives I’ve saved is at least twice that of the lives I’ve not been able to save and the number of lives lost during my many battles. Yes, but: if you ask any one of those who still have a family member or a home to come back to or a life to lead because I kept them out of harm’s way, they’ll tell you no one can see the future, no one can see the quantum possibilities (well, except for me when I’m using my psychic-sight ability, but that’s not the point), they can only see what would have been lost had I stood idly by, protecting my identity or just those I love. Yes, but: one day I won’t succeed. Super-villains are getting stronger and stronger, they get more vicious and personal, more devious and more willing to band together to settle the grudges I collect instead of medals and commendations. Sooner or later someone will strip me of my powers or banish me to a far-off galaxy or just flat kill me dead. I am not immortal, my time will come, too. And when that happens, my only hope – the one thing I know to be true above all else – is that I hope someone just like me or even better comes along and does exactly what I try to do every single day. I’d want that for me, I want that for my friends and family, and I want that for my city. My Green Grove. My home.
So haters, hate on. I didn’t get into this for the adoration of the multitudes. I got into this for the love of a city. P.S. If you care that much about your statue, it’s still there, at the bottom of the lake. Go get it yourselves. Maybe you can put a measure on the ballot to cover the cost.
Short fiction by Jared Yates Sexton, Amanda Miska, Paul Hamilton and Robert James Russell.