Microstory 881: The Cardoso Method

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I’ve always wanted superpowers, and whenever I got the chance, I would try to find out if I did. I’ve broken both my arms, and fractured my leg, getting myself into trouble I had no business being in. I’ve started fights, and I’ve jumped off of small structures, hoping I can heal quickly, or fly. My therapist uses a bunch of fancy lingo, but her ultimate message is that I’m delusional. And the weird part about it is that, yeah, I’m delusional. I know that everyone experiences déjà vu, and that it’s not any more potent in me than it is in others, and I know that I can’t sense what plants are feeling. But that doesn’t mean I can just let go of my beliefs. And thankfully I never did, because if I had just given up, I probably would have never discovered that I was right all along. I can see the future. Sure, I can only see a few seconds into the future, but it’s still something, and it is not without its advantages. Theoretically, someone with my power could use it to fight any opponent, and always win, because they would know what was coming. They might even be able to dodge bullets, but that would be a little more difficult, because it’s hard see a bullet’s path, even after its already happened. I’m taking things slow for now, and assuming my skills will grow over time, if I train correctly. For now, I just use my power for minor things. The first thing I noticed I could do was predict when my toast would be finished. This has come in handy, because something went wrong with the springs in my toaster, which causes it to launch those puppies high into the air. It may sound stupid, but I eat a lot of toast. I can move towards the edge of the intersection before it turns green too, because I know exactly when it’ll turn. Although, this is generally unsafe, and affords me little advantage over people who have learned to recognize the pattern anyway. One thing I like to do is freak out what few friends I still have left by saying exactly what I know they’re gonna say, at the same time they say it. Fortunately, this is nothing but a so-called parlour trick to people who’ve seen me in action. No one would suspect that it’s supernatural in nature. One day, I plan to learn to become a fighter, because I’ll still need moves of my own, but for now, I’m happy just being a performer. Who knows how I’ll feel about it in the future? Oh yeah, that’s right, me.

Microstory 97: Homeless Tenant

Everyday around 8:30, I look in the windows and make sure that no one was in the house that I didn’t know about. Sometimes the homeowner doesn’t leave at all, and I’m stuck outside; but if she does leave, she always returns at exactly 6:30 in the evening. The first time I discovered this house, she had accidentally left it unlocked, but then I found a spare key in her desk. I had an extra one made and have been using it every day since. I don’t ever steal anything valuable. The first thing I do is take a nice warm shower. That way, the water heater has time to compensate by the time she gets back home. She keeps a lot of fruit in her kitchen, so I pick and choose what won’t be noticed. I also like to have a piece of toast, careful to clean up the crumbs. Since she doesn’t own a television, I spend the rest of the day reading the books she has in her library. After a couple years of this, I had all of the narrative fiction read; some of them twice. I moved on to the more technical material that would have been far beyond me before. She was apparently some kind of astrophysicist. I was this close to finishing high school, but I’ve learned more in the last few years of reading on my own than I ever did as a kid. I found her educational literature to be fascinating, and wished that I had had an opportunity to go to college. After exhausting her resources, I started to check books out of the public library, but I would always read them in her house. It felt more like home to me, even though I could never sleep there. One day, I was in the middle of a book about exoplanets, when the door opened. The homeowner walked in and dropped a stack of papers on the coffee table. I’m stunned. “Applications for your GED, college admittance, and financial aid,” she said. “I think it’s time we move you on to a formal education.” How long has she known?