Writing 101 Day 12: Fantastic Expectations – Amazing Revelations

Today’s Prompt: Write a post inspired by a real-world conversation. 

It was a week after  I had walked away from wrapping my car around a telegraph pole. I had walked away from a widowmaker without a scratch. On the first frosty day of September seventeen year old me had left early one morning to go to his job in a a hardware store. Woodford is hilly and and some of the roads hug the hills like lycra. To cut a long story short heading down a hill on a curve on the road I hit a patch of black ice spun slowly round and slammed my clunky Ford Orion into a telegraph pole; bounced off and came to rest in the front garden of a man who when he came to the door had the resigned look of someone who was tired of this sh*t.

A week later I got a call from the hospital I’d been driven to. They wanted to talk about my X-ray….

Turns out I was a double jointed and the junior doctor wanted to examine me again for his own interest.

Mum. Was Pissed.

Anyway the story is based on being born different!

(Which today is set in the Marvel Cinematic Universe for kicks and giggles)

Without Fantastic Expectations – Amazing Revelations

The scene opens on a misty spring morning in New York.

Pan down from a bright, but dirty summer sunrise over New York. Down the sides of hyper reflective phallic skyscrapers and giger-esque nightmares that is Manhahattan’s skyline – down. Down, down sweeping down.

To a non descript corner.

Even at 5.30 am the streets are not quiet. Pan around and see the city that never sleeps. Shift workers. Lost drunken tourists. Bored old policemen and over enthusiastic young policeman scanning the half asleep crowd for potential terrorists.

Now scan across to the skyline to a newly built residential low rise in Hell’s Kitchen and upwards from rapidly warming sidewalks to a fourth floor window.

Ignore his spiderman pyjams. Give him a break hee’s only six. Ignore his Half black, half jewish rich loose afro which  tells a story all of its own.

Look into his eyes. His beautiful brown eyes are wide open with wonder and his mouth his hanging open. He woke up to pee and then get some juice from the fridge. His parents hate it when he does this because he’s not the quietest child in the world. The thunder of little feet as his dad jokes. He’s always bouncing of the furniture, peoples legs, other children. Sent home from school a half dozen times for that

Once he starts running he’s a force of nature. His mother named him Adam after her father His dad though has already started calling him by is natural nickname. Cannonball.

Little Cannonball stares now out of the window. His juice dropped and forgotten, soaking into the carpet.

On the building opposite a man is standing on the roof. His back to the dirty golden sunrise. The profile is unmistakable. The horns are a dead giveaway.

“DAREDEVIL!” he exclaims loud enough to rouse his parents.

The man without fear turns his head and fixes his masked eyeless gaze on the little boy. A kind smile spreads across his unmasked mouth. He puts a finger to his lips. Shhh. With a sudden blur of motion he performs a salmon leap with a flourish for his audience of one and disappears behind the building.

“WHAT IS GOING ON? IS THAT JUICE ON THE FLOOR.

Mum has appeared at his bedroom door. Cue the dramatics. The hurried breathless explanation. Mums steely gaze silences the situation. Efficiently she cleans, scolds, complains and ushers him back into bed.

As she tucks him in she notices the box on his pillow.

“If your dad finds out you’ve tried to open his chinese puzzle box again you’ll be grounded till puberty”

“I solved it but it didn’t open”

“Everything happens in its time. Now go to sleep. Its a Saturday for crying out loud.”

Adam drifts easily off to sleep. He dreams about being able to bounce of walls and fly. He dreams of heroes and daring deeds. He dreams of blue skinned angels.

The box listens. The physical locks had already been solved. The child’s dream opens the secret internal lock that can only be opened by willpower.

The box opens unnaturally as if in more than three dimensions. It seems to grow and then shrink as if it was an exquisite flower. A blue crystal is revealed and a fine mist fills the little boy’s room

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