Christmas Story 4 of 12

My legs really hurt these days.
It’s a tricky life being an old superhero.
Well super heroine really, but it’s hard to use that term these days without people thinking you’ve got a new drug.
I often sit on this bus thinking about the ‘glory’ days. Back when I wasn’t wrinkled and gnarled.
I even had a fling with Superman once. A lovely dinner in some expensive restaurant, followed by a moonlit flight over the sea.
Funny how he never aged, I guess being an alien really works out well for him.
To look at me now you’d be surprised if I made it across the road without having to take a breather in the middle.
But still, I can’t grumble, I’ve done some amazing things in my life.
There are few people that can say they’ve flown into a volcano. Well few people who have done that and lived.
I’ve been at the pinnacle of Everest and the depths of the ocean. I’ve stopped so much destruction and saved so many lives.
For the most part I did it in secret. One or two people learned of what I could do, but that rarely ended well. If they didn’t die, they turned bad. I still don’t know which is worse.
But that’s not to say I’m useless now.
I have no problems opening jars. I’m suspiciously quick when I’m in the supermarket. You won’t find me saying “What? Can you speak up dearie?”
There are perks to being an old superhero.
For instance, I can see the ghost on this bus.
She seems quite sad.
I’d like to talk to her and help her out, but I have my own stuff to do.
It’s an odd thing to be asked out of retirement, especially at this time of year.
But I guess it’s exactly because it’s this time of year I’m needed.
I remember the Nazis having a go at the Arturis project in the 30s. They didn’t know what they were doing any more than these guys know now.
Still, anything to save Christmas and be a heroine again.
I gave the young man who helped me off the bus, a smile.
As the bus pulls away I accelerate to a reasonable fraction of light speed and head towards my target.
My legs still hurt though.