Today I saw Clark Kent sitting outside a Starbucks. He was eating a bag lunch and from fifteen feet away I couldn’t smell his tea but I am sure it was ginseng. He looked adorable in his thick black rimmed glasses. I put on my shades so I could stare at him. He had broad shoulders and a cute smile. He was wearing a dress shirt and tie, nice slacks and no jacket. His clothing fit him perfectly. Not too big and not too small. His bone structure was strong. He was the archetype of manliness.
A brown bird hopping on the ground caught my attention. People don’t tend to notice how beautiful little brown birds are. Naturally, just like all animals, we are attracted to bright colors. But I love the rich browns and the subtle patterns woven into the feathers. I turned back to Clark but in his place was a forty-something-ish women in a drab outfit.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Superman flying away from me. He always seems to be flying away.
I turned on my ipod. It’s just me and my latte now. Fiest told me “it’s cool to love your family.” Then I saw him. Clark was at a different table. That was a quick save even for the man who can travel as fast as a speeding bullet. I wonder how he changed his clothing so quickly and still kept them neat. Not a wrinkle. I bet his apartment is emaculate. I wonder if he was disappointed that the forty-something-ish stole his seat.
Somewhere in the recesses I admitted that Clark Kent was only ever Superman in my mind.
