Bright Heroes

Heroes are enviable people. They do what they seem to like to do. They add value to society, get respect from most groups in society and become legend over time.

Let me tell you a story of a hero who did not wish to have these advantages but still gave help to those who needed it. Fizz was just walking down Blookstreet when he met a group of men who every child could tell that they were drunk, horny and contentious.

But that didn’t bother Fizz.

A few steps away from this dangerous group and something would happen. Everyone knew that. Everyone who lives on Blookstreet and everyone who was still on the street itself.

Well, that was nobody except the old creepy man who nobody knew the name of. He was apparently homeless, since the old smelly clothes never changed, and the hat was fully taped.

He always looked at everyone who was walking down this more-or-less busy street. Not even cars were often on the road. If only one or two confused drivers at rush hour. Everything that happened here was fascinating for him. But what exactly happened that day, he would still want to tell every passer-by years later who happened to want to walk down Blookstreet.

Fizz walked calmly, safely, without taking large, but not too small, steps into the group. His gaze somewhere in the void. It was like he was dreaming. In the next moment he was surrounded by the men.

Oh well. No need to stop walking, is there?

He tries to just keep on walking straight ahead.

Of course, in his direction was the largest closet of black-clad people, dark beard, brown eyes, upturned black cap, with a red clip, a T-shirt that said something about … „Bright* Angel“?

Oh … „Hell Angels“ … Oh well. Still no reason.

But a guy from behind suddenly started talking. Fizz stops.

Not because he was afraid, wanted to fight, or even wanted to say something pointed back.

God forbid! Fizz hated people and conversation.

So he did what everyone should do.

The old creepy man couldn’t trust his eyes. Some eyes from Blookstreet disappeared behind curtains. You’d hear voices.

Laughter? Whisper? Some drunk men got up and ran away.

The rest followed, the guy with the Hells Angels T-shirt followed at the very end. Threw one last fearful look in the direction of Fizz, but the … He just went on on his way, only a very small, insignificant spot in the distance.

„Blookstreet would never be threatened again“ , shouted the old man as he got up from the fence on which he preferred lean on. He checked on Fizz a last time too, but he

… was a hero now.


*In German: Hell = bright

I wish you a beautifully bright and heroic day, stay curious, and …

Thank you for reading!

Veröffentlicht von Ventusator

Eigentlich bin ich manchmal ganz nett. Sometimes I may actually be nice.

2 Kommentare zu „Bright Heroes

    1. My original thoughts are always something indescribable. Something like a spark of actions and movements or falling objects or whatsoever. Oftentimes, my thought ends in something like a building of „sparks/ideas“, and I try to translate and describe this building through words.

      This story tells the everyday situation of people with a set of rules they commit themselve to. Like an „inner logic“ that others cannot comprehend and therefore have either respect (people of Blookstreet) or angst (people of the gang). Even though others seem to like the strong appearance and other effects of that one person, who found their way of argumentation and answers to everyday questions, they want to go the „easy way“ and just demand to know the secret behind that strength (confrontation, as we all know it).

      What makes a Hero a hero, is to know when to keep his secrets. Like a magician.
      You’re not capable of having any impact on others, in this existence, as long as you didn’t bring yourself down to your core questions and philosophy of being, waking up, working, having fun etc.
      (And the most important part: Keeping the right parts of that for yourself and the people you trust/want to help)
      Philosophy and Order of thoughts make ourselves prepared to collide with reality, facts and above all: Other opinions.
      In this human contest of argumentation, you really are a winner through being more approached to reality, but a hero, if you can adapt your opinion AND staying true to yourself at the same time.
      Because that’s an example for others to do it right: Don’t let your identity down, just because you’ve lost an argument. Instead, learn from your opponent (if it’s worth it, in the case of the short story it wasn’t) and have the same argumentation with yourself again. Question your own beliefs, yes, but not everyone is done/has started with themselves yet, so they aren’t worth your time to repeat yourself a dozen of times.
      Fizz just ignored the gang, thus, judged them to not be a worthy opponent, and decided to just continuing to believe in his own worldview.
      Otherwise, by turning around every safety spot in your head, progress can’t be made. There are exceptions, of course. They can be seen in some other short-stories and chapters, but that’s why I’m so excited to study, explore and research more of that city of thoughts.
      I hope that answer was adequate.
      Philo. Greetings,
      Ventusator

      Gefällt mir

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