Reverse Batman

He stood shrouded against the darkness. His long coat whipping in the evening breeze. He hands braced on ample hips he breathed in deeply. To cough his guts up. London’s air was not agreeable to his ageing lungs. Lighting a fag he stared down over the lip of the multi-storey car park and paused in his expectant heroism. He was Batman. The dark Defender. The knight borne on his wings of justice to usurp the crime that dominated his once beautiful city. Well. The beauty possibly eluded his slow thinking but he concluded that he liked the wings of justice bit.

Flicking his fag off the concrete parapet Batman started to think that waiting for crime was quite time intensive. He watched the orange swirl of his fag butt sail down the blocks and land squarely onto an old ladies bird nest hair.

‘Bollocks.’

Reaching his arm across his chest he drew his cloak across his body. The old ladies shrieks sailed up in the wind to him like sweet bird song. His time was now. Checking the rope secured to his midriff he adjusted his luminous yellow belt. Arms outstretched he shook a chubby fist at the ground. Cursing gravity as his well meaning mistress he stepped off into the abyss off open space.

As he fell thoughts seemed to rush up at him almost as fast as the pavement. Screaming into his consciousness was the alarm bell that nature gifted men on many a stupid adventure . This may not turn out quite as I intended it. He felt his leg pull sharply in its socket as the bungee started to stretch. Far from the grace of an eagle he suppressed a groan of terror as the elasticity did not seem to sufficiently reverse his steady downward spiral.