I went to the doctor today for a blood test. They’re checking my cholesterol and other nothing serious stuff.
It’s been a long time since I’d checked on my own health. And as we scratch at 40, it seems like I should check these sort of things.
Likely they’ll come back and tell me that I’m a superhero.
An actual superhero. A real life superhero with skills just needing to be discovered and exercised.
The ability to fly.
The ability to slide across a sheet of ice that I create by shooting it out of my hand.
The ability to hear an earthquake hours before it happens.
The ability to fold paper.
The ability to make a shoe smell.
The ability to look into the past.
The ability to order a sandwich in a crowded deli when my number is called, in simple punctuated statements.
Ham and provolone on rye, with lettuce, tomato and brown mustard, to go.
Yes, to go. No, no mayo.