Monday, April 17, 2006


Superman’s forehead glistened with a film of sweat as he strained with momentary effort.

Clink. House note.

Strain. Clink. Car note.

Strain. Clink. Electric bill.

Every month, the same routine. Scarf a few charcoal briquettes, crap out a few water-white diamonds. That was how the world’s most famous superhero kept the wolf from the door. Couldn’t very well knock over a bank, could he?

The system worked. Most of the time, anyway.

Of course, there was that grim Tax Day back in 2016 when Lex Luthor doped the charcoal supply with plutonium. Where Metropolis had stood was now radioactive glass.

[This is a retelling, of sorts, of an earlier post, Making A Living. I just couldn’t let go of the notion of Superman as Diamond-Factory, and then the idea of critical mass occurred to me...]

[You can hear this story at the 100 Word Stories Podcast.]

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