Town Cryer

Christopher liked working as a cleaner, mopping and dusting and making the place nice. He liked the anonymity too. No-one ever said hello or thanks. And he was fine with that.

Because Christopher was painfully shy.

If he went for coffee and the cute barista gave him a smile, he'd run outside and cry tears of joy at this merest human contact.

He wept at commercials, teared up at the news, and telenovelas were strictly no-go. It embarrassed him, so he hid it.

But one fateful day, this all changed.

Christopher worked at the town's nuclear plant. He was mopping the reactor room when a tremendous rumble passed beneath his feet. The containment structure vibrated with unreleased pressure.

Panicking, his eyes went wide and his lacrimal glands went into overdrive.

A blast shook the building. The reactor shell shattered. A jet of radioactive isotopes slammed into Christopher. But it did not kill him. The rich salts in his copious tears absorbed the ionised particles, distilling them into an ultra-dense radioactive concentrate.

As the dust settled, Christopher stood amongst the debris, not just alive but incandescent. His tears now made him invulnerable, and glowed with the meltdown they contained.

The town was saved. The adulation he received was overwhelming, and he was constantly on the verge of weeping. So he fashioned a pair of goggles to contain his radiant secretions.

Thus he became Town Cryer.

The CIA learned of Christopher's abilities and called on him to contain chemical weapon attacks, toxic spills and sulphurous eruptions.

His tears weren't a source of ridicule anymore. Because he'd showed the world that sometimes tears were a show of strength.

And now, when the cute barista smiles at him, he smiles right back.