Not a hero like someone who puts their own life in danger to rescue their fellow man (although I would hope I would do that if the occasion presented itself). No, I wish I were a hero like the heroes in the television show, Heroes. You know, the one that ran for four years, and I stopped watching after the first year because I was no longer into it. “They thought they were like everyone else … until they woke with incredible abilities.”
I want the ability to resist fire.
I’m fascinated by fire. Oh, don’t worry, I’m not a pyromaniac. But staring into a fire is hypnotic, and it’s warm, and I like the way fire crackles and sounds.
Look at that picture. It has not been photoshopped, and I swear there is a hero at the arrow. Or a monster.
Two doors down from us, a house caught fire. Everyone got out, and firefighters were quick to arrive, so the house was saved, but I was fascinated watching the flames try to claim the house for their own.
Last year, an old warehouse-type building caught fire in our town, and I couldn’t leave the scene. I’ve never seen such a large fire. The heat was intense, and the amount of noise surprised me. Noise from the fire as well as the building falling apart. It was mesmerizing.
I wish I were a hero with the ability to resist fire and some day walk through it unscathed.
Ideally, I would find out about my powers gradually. If a mean boy in high school reached across the table at a hamburger joint, and held a lit cigarette over my hand, I wouldn’t pull away. I would let him put it on the top of my hand, and I would look him in the eye until he chickened out and pulled back. I wouldn’t utter a sound, I would simply grab a sliver of ice from my coke and put it on the hole.
If I loaded wood into the wood burner, and my hand or arm banged the side of the hot burner and left a white hot mark (just about every freakin’ time), I wouldn’t flinch.
If smoking hot oil flew out of the pan when I dropped a beef roast into it, and it melted a hole in the carpet, I wouldn’t cry or fuss when the hot oil also landed on a wide area of my arm.
If I put chicken under the broiler in the oven, and my hand accidentally hit the heating element, I would just sigh and run it under cold water.
In our house, I’m the one who can wash dishes in the hottest of water. I’m the one with white marks on hands and arms from what should have been nasty burns and scars, but the incidents only appear to have taken the pigment out of the skin. I’m the one who can’t seem to stop burning herself with little to no pain or aftermath, and I just look at the menfolk and say, “I’m a hero.”
What hero quality do you possess?
(Carrie Rubin! You better not tell me that I have some terrible neurological disease, and I need to see a doctor right away. Don’t take my hero dream away from me. I’m going to be a firewalker some day! :-))
Weekly Writing Challenge:
Thank you to my friend, Charlie, who put me onto this remix video. As of this date, it’s coming up on eight million hits
(This is a fun lady, and she’s adjusting to her new-found fame well!)
P.S. – When you publish your post about fire, don’t forget about your ham and cheese sandwich in the skillet in the kitchen, or the bottom piece of bread will look like this: