Disclaimer: I do not own the Justice League or any of its members.
Guardian Angel
Chapter 2: Newsflash
The alarm clock; at once both loved and loathed by mankind. On one hand, it ensures that those who use it awake on time. On the other, it rips those same people from whatever dreams they had been enjoying.
Normally, John Myers hated his alarm clock. To him, it meant the start of another long day at the office. Today, however, the repetitive beeps that pierce the morning stillness carry a new meaning. As he turned off the little device he could not help but smile, for he knew that within a few short hours he would be seeing his family again. He could almost picture the meeting…
The first thing he would see as he nears the terminal would be the figure of his wife as she struggles with the luggage. He would call out to her, and she would smile in his direction. Then, but an instant later, he would be knocked off-balance by a little dynamo. Looking down, he would brace himself for the inevitable "What didja bring me?" After some small talk, he would usher them to the car and finally bring them home.
While such thoughts were a pleasant distraction during breakfast, it was soon time to move on to more serious matters--like shaving.
Before beginning in earnest, John went through a little ritual. First, he turned on the television in the next room. Next, he angled the mirror on the medicine cabinet so that he might watch the news as he shaved. Rebecca often criticized this arrangement. How, she would ask, could he possibly focus on the delicate task of shaving, while trying to watch TV? Multitasking, he would reply.
Reaching into the medicine cabinet, John pulled out a bottle of shaving cream. He pondered it for a moment. Sometimes, as he would shave, Daniel would try to emulate him. John laughed to himself. The boy would always use entirely too much, looking for all the world like a three-foot tall Santa Clause. Danny would even use a real razor—minus the blade, of course. Daniel would do this almost every day, making the game of copycat a common routine.
Pushing these memories to the back of his mind, John turned to task at hand, while Snapper Carr began the early morning news.
/*#*\
In all his years of reporting, he had seen all manners of tragedies. He had seen floods, famine, war, even the near extinction of the human race. Yet even after seeing so much, it could never prepare him for more. And so he did the only thing he could. He began speaking.
"Tragedy has taken wing today with the crash of Air Metropolis flight 230. Less than an hour after lifting off, the pilots began reporting engine trouble and began making its way back to shore. Then, around 7:30 local time, the 747 dropped off of radar. Authorities rushed to the aircraft's last known location. What greeted them was nothing less than carnage. The plane's wreckage has been spread over an area of roughly twenty square miles. There have been no signs that any of the nearly five hundred passengers and crew survived…"
/*#*\
The razor fell as if in slow motion. Upon hitting the sink it clattered down, finally coming to rest near the drain. A small trickle of blood down the blade, into the drain, onward to oblivion.
Guardian Angel
Chapter 2: Newsflash
The alarm clock; at once both loved and loathed by mankind. On one hand, it ensures that those who use it awake on time. On the other, it rips those same people from whatever dreams they had been enjoying.
Normally, John Myers hated his alarm clock. To him, it meant the start of another long day at the office. Today, however, the repetitive beeps that pierce the morning stillness carry a new meaning. As he turned off the little device he could not help but smile, for he knew that within a few short hours he would be seeing his family again. He could almost picture the meeting…
The first thing he would see as he nears the terminal would be the figure of his wife as she struggles with the luggage. He would call out to her, and she would smile in his direction. Then, but an instant later, he would be knocked off-balance by a little dynamo. Looking down, he would brace himself for the inevitable "What didja bring me?" After some small talk, he would usher them to the car and finally bring them home.
While such thoughts were a pleasant distraction during breakfast, it was soon time to move on to more serious matters--like shaving.
Before beginning in earnest, John went through a little ritual. First, he turned on the television in the next room. Next, he angled the mirror on the medicine cabinet so that he might watch the news as he shaved. Rebecca often criticized this arrangement. How, she would ask, could he possibly focus on the delicate task of shaving, while trying to watch TV? Multitasking, he would reply.
Reaching into the medicine cabinet, John pulled out a bottle of shaving cream. He pondered it for a moment. Sometimes, as he would shave, Daniel would try to emulate him. John laughed to himself. The boy would always use entirely too much, looking for all the world like a three-foot tall Santa Clause. Danny would even use a real razor—minus the blade, of course. Daniel would do this almost every day, making the game of copycat a common routine.
Pushing these memories to the back of his mind, John turned to task at hand, while Snapper Carr began the early morning news.
/*#*\
In all his years of reporting, he had seen all manners of tragedies. He had seen floods, famine, war, even the near extinction of the human race. Yet even after seeing so much, it could never prepare him for more. And so he did the only thing he could. He began speaking.
"Tragedy has taken wing today with the crash of Air Metropolis flight 230. Less than an hour after lifting off, the pilots began reporting engine trouble and began making its way back to shore. Then, around 7:30 local time, the 747 dropped off of radar. Authorities rushed to the aircraft's last known location. What greeted them was nothing less than carnage. The plane's wreckage has been spread over an area of roughly twenty square miles. There have been no signs that any of the nearly five hundred passengers and crew survived…"
/*#*\
The razor fell as if in slow motion. Upon hitting the sink it clattered down, finally coming to rest near the drain. A small trickle of blood down the blade, into the drain, onward to oblivion.