Prometheus’ Eternal Return

When left to do nothing, a person will be driven back to the haunts of old habits. Charles C. Jenkins reminded Kat of the power of words.

Reverting to her feral ways, Kat followed the foot of a trail, then was swallowed into the skirting woods, foaming rapids and rimmed islets that formed a collar around the great fissures of black cliffs lining range upon range of the purple hills of desolation that breast out and disappeared into the northern horizon.

The sun seethed. Nature released an exuberant flicker. Magnetic flashes that precede electrical storms reflected the lofty nudity of the barren, age-chained monsters.

There was an uncanny superstitious undercurrent of awe that suggested that reality was run by something sacred, that accepts light and shadow.

Kat heard the hoarse exclamations of nature’s whispers. Following a grist of reasonable conjectures, guesswork and insinuation, a definite object came into view. Ghosts had parried with Mankind, deflecting the blows of those who nefariously exploited natural resources, on land, water, underground and throughout the atmospheric layers. Some stinging thrusts left scars that exposed mankind’s vulnerability. Others revealed rare potentialities and secret strategies that created a mystical form of trust in truth that could spread without compromise.

Using thrilling mysterious possibilities, the superhero deals with what is undependable and uncertain. Expeditiously feeding self-interests while reducing transgressions. The pirate who uses chance incidental encounters to take raw materials becomes the superhero who imagines loopholes in the origin story of Prometheus, who gave man fire and had his liver, the soul, consumed each day, only to have it regrow.

The Superhero revives the creative, spontaneous celebration of the fire of the heart, then breathes it into the life and soul of everything that is connected through the world and universe.