A little help from my friends.
It’s never been about the mask. At the end of the day -- usually a very long day where I get home bruised and broken just in time to leave again and mould the minds of our future at a job that actually pays -- I’m Peter Parker, not Spider-Man. So when it comes to the things I miss most about home, it’s not the fantastical spider powers. It’s not playing hero. It’s not even the city.
It’s the people.
Aunt May, Robbie, Randy, Felicia, Flash... Some friend I am, stuck here instead of visiting him in the hospital -- I wonder if he’s out of the coma, back in the real world? I can't even check the shelf to find out. It’s not really the sort of thing that’d be in the newspaper, not even a rag like the Bugle. Aw heck, I’d even give ol’ JJJ a hug right about now, and I can barely stand the guy! And that’s not even counting people like Matchstick or DD or even my new New Avengers buddies. Figures. My first proper trip with the big leagues and I end up on Mister Fantastic does Gilligan’s Island, complete with some weird ‘the demon’s not in the bottle’ Iron Man, She-Sasquatch, a couple o’ kids, and a bunch of X-folk -- and boy, does that last group bring up some bad memories of the Savage Land. Oy vey.
I’ve been here for months, now, but that’s still not long enough to undo over a decade of bad -- no, I’m serious, really bad -- sleeping habits. So when I find myself skipping stones on the beach, I’m not entirely sure if it’s dawn or dusk. Either way, the sun’s low in the sky, and I'll know soon enough if it's coming or going.
“How pathetic is my life,” I think aloud, throwing a rock, “that I wouldn’t say no to having Rhino around?” I get my answer when, instead of skipping, the rock falls into the water with all the grace of the Vulture. Crouching down to pick up another one from the pile at my feet, I sigh. “Geez, Parker. You really need to make more friends.”
Happy 600th issue, The Amazing Spider-Man! ST/LT as usual.
It’s the people.
Aunt May, Robbie, Randy, Felicia, Flash... Some friend I am, stuck here instead of visiting him in the hospital -- I wonder if he’s out of the coma, back in the real world? I can't even check the shelf to find out. It’s not really the sort of thing that’d be in the newspaper, not even a rag like the Bugle. Aw heck, I’d even give ol’ JJJ a hug right about now, and I can barely stand the guy! And that’s not even counting people like Matchstick or DD or even my new New Avengers buddies. Figures. My first proper trip with the big leagues and I end up on Mister Fantastic does Gilligan’s Island, complete with some weird ‘the demon’s not in the bottle’ Iron Man, She-Sasquatch, a couple o’ kids, and a bunch of X-folk -- and boy, does that last group bring up some bad memories of the Savage Land. Oy vey.
I’ve been here for months, now, but that’s still not long enough to undo over a decade of bad -- no, I’m serious, really bad -- sleeping habits. So when I find myself skipping stones on the beach, I’m not entirely sure if it’s dawn or dusk. Either way, the sun’s low in the sky, and I'll know soon enough if it's coming or going.
“How pathetic is my life,” I think aloud, throwing a rock, “that I wouldn’t say no to having Rhino around?” I get my answer when, instead of skipping, the rock falls into the water with all the grace of the Vulture. Crouching down to pick up another one from the pile at my feet, I sigh. “Geez, Parker. You really need to make more friends.”
Happy 600th issue, The Amazing Spider-Man! ST/LT as usual.