it continues!

Jamie, on the other hand, had no idea about any of this.  Jamie, at this moment, had just finished getting dressed into what he considered a smart ensemble of black t-shirt and cargo pants.  The black helped him blend in with the background and the cargo pants had lots of pockets so he figured, utilitarian.   He slid on his mask, which was basically a modified bandana and stepped outside.  Hmm.  It was a bit hot.  He decided to slip off the bandana until he spotted some actual crime.  He scanned the street near his front porch back and forth. 

Guy walking his dog.  Nothing suspicious there.  Man watering his garden, doesn't seem too suspicious for now, keep a casual eye on him in case the grass starts smoking which would indicate some sort of chemical weapon.  Woman sun-baking in her front lawn in a tiny bikini.  Probably not dangerous but something told him he probably shouldn't take a risk and kept an eye on her just in case.

For some, the idea of rain being able to wash away such a traumatic experience didn't quite seem to make sense. A decisive, life-ending event had occurred on the leaf, and the plant was fooling itself if it believed that simply wiping the slate clean, as it were, would make everything ok. On the other hand, this is a leaf we're talking about and we cannot be entirely sure that it even has an emotional response even capable of such trauma. Whether it will be reclining on some tree-related psychologist's couch detailing the event as one that helped it realise life was for LIVING! As far as a leaf can live. Lets ignore the fact its normally permanently attached to it's branch, would sort of nightlife would a leaf persue? Hit the clubs and dance the night away? Go to a heavy metal concert and stem-bang? Or does it vary from leaf to leaf?

Dr Traz did not care about the answers to these questions. Dr Traz did not care about a lot of things besides the completion of his doomsday device which would surely strike terror into the hearts of heads of government everywhere and really show everyone who had ever made fun of his relentless quest to have the UN renamed to FUN. It made perfect sense to the doctor, it meant that refugees got an extra sense of goodwill knowing all the FUN was helping them, not to mention the lift it would give soldiers being able to yell, here comes fun!' when about to enter a combat zone.

While Jamie mused on his lack of name, thousands of miles away a small slug crawled along a leaf. It stopped to ponder if it should be wearing shoes, then wondered if it even had feet. Finally, it wondered what shoes were and why he should be having such thoughts. The slug gazed thoughtfully into the distance and was eaten by a passing hedgehog. The hedgehog waddled off on it's way and the leaf was left to ponder how long it would be before a storm could wash the slimy residue left by the slug off of it's surface.

The doctor selected his largest scalpel and ran his tongue lovingly along the edge as he eyed his dinner. If the steak on his plate was alive it would've shivered at the sight of the doctor eying it up so lavishly, possibly not in horror but in... excitement? Who knows the mind of beef?

Every molecule of the doctor's being was focussed on the meat on his plate. He brought his fork down and pinned the steak to the plate. It did not writhe, of course, but you can imagine it doing so, little pitiful cries escaping from it as it tried to crawl away. Maybe that's just me. In any case, his carrion thus penetrated the good doctor brought his scalpel down to bear on his prize and then, just as he was to carve off a piece with no thought of what the steak once was, I suddenly changed the topic.

It was a cold summer morning, the sort where the sun is brightly shining but you can feel cold radiating off the window. Jamie awoke and pulled the covers closer to his chin. He lay and thought about how it felt a bit cold but that his room was brightly lit by the sun through his venetians. He rolled over with a sigh and checked the time on his alarm clock. 9.10 am. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut again and groaned. Why had he decided to become a superhero? And why had he imposed himself an 'early start' rule? Didn't most crime happen late at night? Nevertheless, He couldn't start breaking his rules now, not if he was going to take this seriously.

Jamie rolled into a sitting position on the side of the bed, taking most of the bedding with him as he really didn't want to face the chilly air around him straight away. He cracked his back into place and scratched his stomach. Hmm. Will need to do some crunches tomorrow, he thought to himself. He congratulated himself on making such a positive mental note to himself, then stood up and staggered to the bathroom.

After his shower, he deliberated to himself in front of the mirror if he should shave. I mean, he had a pretty decent shadow going there so if he wanted to go for more of a Superman or Spiderman sort of look he should probably shave. On the other hand, the facial hair gave him an air of a 'dark' and 'complex' superhero, one with demons and a past that hinted at some sort of tragedy which led to him fighting crime. Of course, Jamie knew he had suffered no such tragedy, so he reluctantly pulled out his razor from the drawer. He noticed that it looked very blunt. Well, that settled it. His laziness and the dangerousness of the blade meant that he was just going to have to pretend to be a dark and complex superhero.
"Mental note:" he mused, "use this to finally come up with some sort of name."

Hey well it's November again. I would've started earlier but I managed to have my shoulder come out of it's socket! I've nearly recovered so I'm doing NanoWriMo this year.. Last year I only got up to about 7,000 words, hopefully this year I can get closer to the 50,000 word mark! I'll be going day by day on here as a motivator. Hopefully for tonight the pain in my shoulder won't sway the book too much. Heh