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Superhero Girl

by Jei D. Marcade

Ofelia was a superhero.  She told me so without reserve.  “It’s safe for me to tell you,” she said.  “I can sense you’re not a villain.  Besides, it would be unfair to keep it from you.  It won’t be easy, you know, being involved with a superhero girl.”

It did take some getting used to.  She received her mission briefings in birdsong, in radio static, encoded in every third word backwards from a breaking news bulletin on the televisions in a specific store window.  She saw battle plans drawn out for her in cloud patterns, coffee cup rings, the movement of players on a soccer field.  During these moments she would stand frozen in mid-motion, her head cocked to the side, listening intently.  Then she would drop—literally drop—whatever she was doing and dash away, calling apologies over her shoulder.