Hero Complex
by Vala

Just another knock on the door of her dirty motel room and yet it meant so much more than all the others. A meeting of two of a kind. Except for not so much the same or a kind, in his case. But the hero complex factor was undeniable.

A war was raging and yet moments were still set aside for times like these. A sharing of alcohol and drunken crying and all was saved. Time froze and for a moment, everything was all right. For a moment.

All life was was a series of moments and all but a few were filled with crying and pain and heroic habits for those with an extraordinary hero complex to consider.

Some had a short life expectancy, and therefore a shorter series, than others. Junkies, the terminally ill, heroes -- all were in the same line to get off at an earlier stop.

But the terminally ill and junkies didn't die knowing they'd made a difference in the world. They didn't save the world.


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