The Words of a Dying Flame

I love superhero movies like I love breathing: they are integral to my life. I love watching people with strange powers flit across the screen, displaying their abilities and using them for the greater good of mankind, as they also struggle to fit in with the same mankind. I also love their villains, albeit cartoonish, because they need a challenge to their supposed superiority. One of these heroes is Superman: THE superhero. almost every young boy out there dreamt of being a superhero just like him, as he stood tall and strong in stature and his ideals.   Now, I wasn’t born in the 70’s or the 80’s, so the only portrayals I knew was that of Tim Daly in the Adventures of Superman, Dean Cain in Lois & Clark, Tom Welling in Smallville and Henry Cavill in Man of Steel. I single out Brandon Routh in Superman Returns because, as I’ve been told, he was meant to mirror Christoper Reeves’ version, which many regard as the template of what Superman should be like. Agreed, h...

The warm orange glow of the street lights complimented the humdrum of the city that had just woken up to flashily dressed youngins that graced every liquor store in sight, trying to find the cheapest happiness they could, all passing disapproving elders that mused on the waywardness of the youth of today, while also visiting the said establishments. Though a usual scene, it never seemed to bore him on his way home from work on Friday. In fact, it almost reminded him of his younger days, when the world ended the tomorrow and you had to make the most of it the night, only to realize that you had to wake up the following day to the memories of a bittersweet thrill in the name of having fun. He sometimes wished he could go back to those days, but life took over, and he had to grow up sometime. He made a left turn at the end of the street, meeting a more morose scene, one that had shops with broken window displays, broken pipes splurging water on the already filthy pavement, only visi...