M.J's thoughts.
I know this has probably been done a million times before, but I thought I would give my own interpretation of it, which I just wrote in 15 minutes. Please review and let me know what you think.
Oh and I don't own any rights to Spiderman or anything like that. Just my idea using characters from the franchise..
It's 2:36 a.m.
I have just wished my husband to be safe again. I constantly asked my self: "Why does he do this?"
I normally go back to bed after I see him off but not this evening. It's raining. Hard. I can hear it pounding the ceiling of the apartment, doing it's best a seep in. I normally don't let it bother me but to tonight for some reason it's keeping me awake and unlocking all the thoughts and feelings I have about my husband's alter ego. After all, it's not easy being the wife of Spiderman - the worry, the constant disappearance acts, the watching him on T.V. and knowing that there is nothing you can do to help him.
Why does he do this?
After a while I find myself worrying even more and so try to find something to distract me quickly. I reach for the remote control and switch on the T.V. Seen it, seen it, rubbish, geez how many times has that been on? Flicking the channels blanks my mind for a few moments. Up until I reach the news channel. There he is; my husband, fighting a particularly nasty group of high-tech thieves who had just broke into the main city bank. Great I think to myself! The news channel is there capturing all the action live and on tape: the shooting, the fighting, the cursing, all of which aimed at my husband. I used to get angry when I saw this happening to him but eventually became desensitised to it. After all, when I hear him taunt and have a quip back at his opponents I know he's all right and can handle himself.
But yet I still worry. Why does he do this?
After watching unwillingly, but compulsively, I see my husband eventually apprehend the thieves. I turn the T.V. off.
Silence.
I hadn't even noticed the rain had stopped. I go to look out of the window to see the night skyline. For some reason it looked quite magnificent tonight. The way the moonlight shone on each of the houses and the way the grey marshmallow clouds engaged and merged themselves between the high rise buildings sent a chill down my spine. Quite haunting and yet, quite awe- inspiring at the same time. I could see why Peter got such a thrill from web-slinging through a night like this. It must be amazing. I suddenly find myself looking meticulously at every square-inch I could see. I was looking for my husband who I realised should be back by now unless.unless someone else needed his help. I reluctantly turn away hating the thought that I had to share Peter with the whole of New York City.
"Well, another night alone," I mumble to myself as I turn to go back to bed.
"Not tonight pretty lady," came a familiar voice from above. A little startled, I look up to see my husband, with his mask off stuck to the ceiling in his familiar arachnid pose. I give him a wry smile as he jumps down majestically and walks up to me. He holds me in his arms and I reply in kind. His costume is still damp from the rain but I don't care. As long as he was back, safe and in my arms. At least until tomorrow.
I know this has probably been done a million times before, but I thought I would give my own interpretation of it, which I just wrote in 15 minutes. Please review and let me know what you think.
Oh and I don't own any rights to Spiderman or anything like that. Just my idea using characters from the franchise..
It's 2:36 a.m.
I have just wished my husband to be safe again. I constantly asked my self: "Why does he do this?"
I normally go back to bed after I see him off but not this evening. It's raining. Hard. I can hear it pounding the ceiling of the apartment, doing it's best a seep in. I normally don't let it bother me but to tonight for some reason it's keeping me awake and unlocking all the thoughts and feelings I have about my husband's alter ego. After all, it's not easy being the wife of Spiderman - the worry, the constant disappearance acts, the watching him on T.V. and knowing that there is nothing you can do to help him.
Why does he do this?
After a while I find myself worrying even more and so try to find something to distract me quickly. I reach for the remote control and switch on the T.V. Seen it, seen it, rubbish, geez how many times has that been on? Flicking the channels blanks my mind for a few moments. Up until I reach the news channel. There he is; my husband, fighting a particularly nasty group of high-tech thieves who had just broke into the main city bank. Great I think to myself! The news channel is there capturing all the action live and on tape: the shooting, the fighting, the cursing, all of which aimed at my husband. I used to get angry when I saw this happening to him but eventually became desensitised to it. After all, when I hear him taunt and have a quip back at his opponents I know he's all right and can handle himself.
But yet I still worry. Why does he do this?
After watching unwillingly, but compulsively, I see my husband eventually apprehend the thieves. I turn the T.V. off.
Silence.
I hadn't even noticed the rain had stopped. I go to look out of the window to see the night skyline. For some reason it looked quite magnificent tonight. The way the moonlight shone on each of the houses and the way the grey marshmallow clouds engaged and merged themselves between the high rise buildings sent a chill down my spine. Quite haunting and yet, quite awe- inspiring at the same time. I could see why Peter got such a thrill from web-slinging through a night like this. It must be amazing. I suddenly find myself looking meticulously at every square-inch I could see. I was looking for my husband who I realised should be back by now unless.unless someone else needed his help. I reluctantly turn away hating the thought that I had to share Peter with the whole of New York City.
"Well, another night alone," I mumble to myself as I turn to go back to bed.
"Not tonight pretty lady," came a familiar voice from above. A little startled, I look up to see my husband, with his mask off stuck to the ceiling in his familiar arachnid pose. I give him a wry smile as he jumps down majestically and walks up to me. He holds me in his arms and I reply in kind. His costume is still damp from the rain but I don't care. As long as he was back, safe and in my arms. At least until tomorrow.