Biopic (Superhero Black Hole, Pt. 16)

The screen filled with white again. The woman’s face conveyed both bemused expectation and irritation at delay. There was still something wrong with it, barely above the subliminal, but enough to pique my senses.

The black letters did not appear this time. Instead, a black-and-white film, complete with film-grain lines and mold spots and what have you, began to play. The scene was outside of a bar, which I quickly realized was Fick’s. I saw the decorations out front for a party for some local sports game that nobody cared about; they just liked the excuse to get drunk.

I also realized that it was my one-year anniversary with the girl who slept with my brother.

I saw the two of us leave the building, and I kissed her, then I spoke. The film was silent, but soon the cue card came up with my words:

_“You will always be mine. I will never let you go.”_

Then, after we walked off the screen, those darkened words flashed once again:


A chill went up my spine.

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