Flying

Flying is what he did best, not saving people, not worrying about his actions, flying. From building to building he swings gracefully, arching, pulling then releasing; over and over creating a mindless rhythm. If there was anything that he loved most in the world, aside from Aunt May, it was propelling at unbelievable speeds through the city that never let him sleep. Feeling the wind whistle past him in his skintight suit never ceased to make him grin. The somewhat simple task in his not so simple life added what little happiness was allowed to be felt.

(A/N):

Hi again,

Do you ever wonder what life is about, and what we are supposed to be doing? I have found myself wondering that a lot lately and I have decided that we don't always need to fit smoothly with the other pieces of the messed up puzzle that we call this world. So I sort of gave up in this for a bit, cause I felt that no one was reading it, even though my stats said otherwise. I want to thank FrivolousThoughts. Without your review, I would have left this piece to just whither and die. I also wanted to thank you for the awesome constructive criticism you gave me, it definitely helped.

Thnx