Everyone Loves A Hero

The hero roars at his Harley and sends out laughter that can melt the ice cave. "Hey, sir, what's new?"

I can tell you personally that it is impossible to hate a hero. It is also difficult to date a single person unless you enjoy clinging to a cliff, chasing soldiers in a burning building, or wrestling victoriously against the chains that bind you on the tracks. If not, you will never get his full attention. He is busy running out the front door, still chewing half a mouthful of whole-grain pasta that you have baked because there is an earthquake or a human cat tied to a tree.

"Hey, you. How's the cat?" I smile again and continue to cultivate a piece of vegetable.

Granted, I may have a little more guilt over the last one, as I put Andrea Laughlin's cat in a tree. Who knew he wouldn't be aware until dinner time?

"The cat is a kitten, okay, and I fixed Andrea's closed sink," he said, turning off the engine. He went straight to the house to bathe.

No work is too small my hero. Except for these annoying no one says "thank you" to them. Like sewing buttons back on all his shirts, and, from time to time, in a slow-moving week, driving him to work. It is difficult to stay with him in the house things are moving slowly. Heroes eat badly in sports. Plus, I swear she'll put on my mirror, exercise "nothing princess," and "it's all a day's work, sir."

I remove my gardening gloves from the front door and go in and find her standing on the sink, eating cold lasagna from the pan. "I can't get you anything? A glass of wine? A chair?"

She shook her head. "I need to get zzz. Tomorrow I have an interview with The Times about the atmosphere that almost hit that kid."

I once was that kid. The day we met, he kicked me out of my feet and pulled me out of a moving train. I carefully examined the schedule, but he did not need to know. We went out to eat supper; she was beautiful. The next day, I think he bribed the driver to let the horse run in the park, and I rode in the chariot, terrified. He thought it was romantic. I pulled a muscle on my shoulder and began to carry a Swiss military knife and other items. Soon, I was able to escape many things on my own. That was a lot more fun than waiting on the trail.

The thing is, I would like to talk to him at the store. I have great ideas for how we can teach people to redeem themselves. Now it was as if we had never eaten food that could not be interrupted by the ringing of his phone. I would like to talk as we used to talk, about asteroids, giant robots, or angry young zombies. Or go out and have dinner once in a while. But now he says, "We can't find peace," or, "That's not a wise way to spend hard-earned money."

Not that you earn money. Of course, managers do not want to charge him at the grocery store or the gas station, but he always talks to them about it. "It's just not my way," he smiled, then shook their hands as I looked at the credit card. He doesn't have his own. He has been asked many times to make recommendations, but he has seen how that goes, and he does not want to tarnish his reputation. So I earn, and you become a hero.

It is early in the morning, and he has gone out early to meet the reporter, so I avoid a fight over who has used the hot water, or why he left the talcum-soaked cake on the floor while wearing his top suit. I make a cup of coffee and go to work, on time, once.

You told me you thought my job was heroic, and maybe so, even though we are so many working together, and getting lab coats and glasses instead of capes and spandex. "Heroes can't do everything," he said, and they are certainly weak when it comes to preventing hunger and disease. So, I did what I could. It pays well.

Plus, he kicks me out of the house. I don't have to answer "Did you buy a lot of power bars?" when I was in the lab. And no one knows I live with a hero, so no one tells me how lucky I am, how fun it should be, while I take the phages out of the fridge and head straight for my station.

Indeed, I have said before that she must find her place. I have prepared the battle for him, I have packed his bags. He takes it slowly, smiling like that, I just wonder. So I spent a lot of time at work recently. I did my little part to save the planet. Sometimes, while I was waiting for the samples to finish running on the big machines, I was thinking about the beach holidays or flirting with an outside prince. Sometimes I consider the balance of my credit card.

And sometimes, when I work, I come up with new projects for him.

The vision I had one day was not too difficult to comprehend. A journalist asks for an interview. He doesn't get much these days, but he still gets it. You are small and beautiful. He kisses her, humiliates her, as I have already paid for her, if she does not respond, she drinks her drink with something I cooked in the lab hours later.

It may work. She can use a smile on her face for whatever she wants.

When he wakes up, in the hotel room I was renting, he will show him what he does for a living, and I hope they both enjoy it. I know I would be happy to pay a credit card or two for the benefit of the photos.

I hope it works.

Heroes. You cannot live with them, and it is difficult to break up with them.