Superman: Man of Tomorrow

Upon a brisk and lively morning, Mr. Ebenezer Scrooge, once a miser of the most sordid kind, now reformed in heart and spirit, embarked upon a solitary promenade along the cobbled streets of London. The city, teeming with the earnest stir of commerce and the ceaseless motion of carriages, presented to him a spectacle most engaging and diverse.

As he wandered, his mind, once preoccupied with ledgers and coin, now ruminated on matters of a more philanthropic nature. He observed the multitude with an eye no longer jaundiced by disdain, but softened by compassion. The cries of street vendors selling their humble wares, the laughter of children at play, even the weary steps of laborers, all stirred within him a profound contemplation of the city's state.

He paused to regard a group of ragged children, their faces smudged with the soot of the city, yet alight with an innocent mirth. "How much," thought he, "does the joy of these young souls weigh against the gold I once hoarded?" This reflection led him to muse on the disparity between wealth and happiness, a topic that had long eluded his understanding in years past.

Scrooge's gaze then drifted towards the various edifices lining the thoroughfare—some grand and imposing, others modest and unassuming. He pondered the lives unfolding within each, the joys and sorrows, the struggles and triumphs. "What a tapestry of existence is woven within this great city," he mused, "each thread as vital as the next, however unremarkable it may seem."

In the midst of his contemplation, he was accosted by a beggar, frail and bent, extending a trembling hand. The Scrooge of yore would have dismissed the wretch without a second glance. But the Scrooge of now, touched by a newfound empathy, reached into his pocket, and with a gentle smile, bestowed a few coins upon the grateful soul.

Continuing his pensive amble through the streets, Mr. Scrooge's thoughts naturally turned to a matter that had of late occupied much of his consideration—the politics of London, particularly in regards to the education of its youth. The topic was one close to his heart, for he had recently embarked on an endeavor most uncharacteristic of his former self: to persuade the city's politicians to allocate more funds towards the enlightenment and betterment of young minds.

He recalled with a twinge of frustration the assemblage of politicians he had entreated. Their chamber, opulent and suffused with the solemnity of power, had echoed with his earnest pleas for investment in education. Yet, despite his impassioned arguments, laden with both logic and a newfound moral fervor, he had been met with responses tepid and noncommittal. The politicians, ensconced in their world of influence and privilege, seemed far removed from the realities of the common populace. They offered polite yet empty words, assurances that the matter would be 'considered,' a phrase Scrooge had learned to interpret as an elegant dismissal.

This experience with the city's politicians had not dampened his resolve but rather kindled a firmer determination in his breast. He understood now, more than ever, that the path to reform was fraught with obstacles and that true change required both persistence and patience. The plight of the city's less fortunate, especially the children whose bright eyes spoke of potential yet unrealized, weighed heavily upon his conscience.

Mr. Scrooge pondered over the various strategies he might employ to sway the opinions of those in power. Perhaps, he thought, a more direct approach would prove effective—presenting them with tangible evidence of the city's educational needs, or even inviting them to witness firsthand the conditions of the schools. He realized that change often required more than mere words; it demanded action, an embodiment of the ideals one professed to uphold.

As Mr. Scrooge continued his contemplative stroll through the bustling streets of London, his thoughts deeply entrenched in the complexities of social reform, a most peculiar sight arrested his attention and abruptly drew him out of his reverie.

There, amidst the hustle and bustle of the city, wandered a young toddler, no more than three years of age. The child's black hair, matted and damp, clung to his tiny, furrowed brow, giving the impression that he had recently emerged from a dip in the Thames. His small, delicate frame was unclothed, save for the droplets of water that glistened on his skin like tiny, transient pearls. The little one meandered with an aimless gait, his tiny feet pattering against the cold cobblestones, seemingly oblivious to the oddity of his own presence in such a setting.

The sight was so startlingly out of place amidst the common throngs of the city that for a moment, Mr. Scrooge doubted the evidence of his own eyes. Passersby, too, took notice, some with expressions of concern, others with mere curiosity, yet none seemed inclined to intervene.

Mr. Scrooge, whose heart had lately become attuned to the sufferings and needs of the less fortunate, especially children, felt a surge of compassion and alarm. He hastened towards the child, his earlier frustrations and musings momentarily forgotten. As he approached, he observed the child's cheeks, rosy with the chill of the air, and his eyes, wide and uncomprehending, gazing at the world around him with a mixture of wonder and confusion.

"Good heavens, child! Where are your parents?" Mr. Scrooge inquired, though he knew such a young one could scarcely answer. Looking around, he called out to the gathering crowd, "Does anyone know this child? He cannot be left here in such a state!"

Seeing no immediate guardian or parent, Mr. Scrooge gently scooped the toddler into his arms, wrapping his own coat around the shivering little body. The child, initially startled by the sudden embrace, soon nestled against Mr. Scrooge, finding warmth and a sense of security.

Determined to find the child's guardians or, at the very least, a safe haven for him, Mr. Scrooge set off, the toddler in his arms, his mind now fully engaged in this most unexpected and urgent mission.

xxxxx

You remember voices, warm and resonant, speaking in tones of love and urgency. These are the voices of your parents, echoes from a world far beyond the domain you now find yourself in. Their words, though now fragmented in your young mind, carry the weight of a profound farewell, a sending forth from a place of danger to one of safety.

Your mind's eye, still fresh with the innocence of youth, recalls the sensation of flying—not as a bird does, but through the vast, endless expanse of space. Stars and celestial bodies streak past you, a kaleidoscope of cosmic beauty. You are cocooned within a vessel, small yet imbued with the technology of a civilization far advanced. This ship, your ark through the heavens, is both protector and guide, carrying you away from a doomed planet, a home you will never know.

You have vague, dreamlike recollections of hurtling through the Earth's atmosphere, a fiery descent that ends in the cold embrace of the sea. The impact, though cushioned by the ship's design, is jarring, and water surrounds you, dark and chilling. Your ship's lid opens and water floods the compartment, but it does not crush you. You swim, yes you swim, against the darkness until you find yourself crawling upon cobbled streets. Where are you? It's cold. So cold.

You see individuals walking around. Some point at you. You are confused. You are hungy. You don't know what to do. You begin walking and you shiver once more. You're cold. What are these strange noises. You don't like this. You want to go home. You miss your mother and her warmth. Suddenly you hear a voice,

"Good heavens, child! Where are your parents?"

You barely have time to see the man before you are wrapped in warmth and a feeling of safety. You lean into the warmth as the man seems to carry you, yelling about in a strange tongue you do not yet understand. You take time to observe the man. There's a certain age etched into his face, with lines that tell tales of years spent in worry and avarice, yet there is something in his eyes that speaks of a recent awakening, a newfound warmth that softens his otherwise stern countenance.

His attire, you will later learn, is of a gentleman, well-fitted and of good quality, suggesting a life of means. Yet, there is an absence of ostentation in his dress; it is dignified but not flamboyant. His coat, which he has wrapped around you, feels soft and warm, carrying with it a scent of wool mixed with a hint of winter's chill. His posture, initially rigid and formal, has softened since he took you into his arms. There's a protectiveness in the way he holds you, a steadiness in his stance that makes you feel secure amidst the unfamiliarity of your surroundings.

In the comforting embrace of safety, the ensuing hours unfolded in a manner most bewildering yet soothing. Nourishment was provided, along with garments better suited to ward off the chill of the London air. The gentleman, Mr. Scrooge, busied himself in earnest conversations with a multitude of persons. The subject of their discourse remained a mystery to your young understanding, but the fatigue of the day's adventures soon ushered you into the tranquil repose of slumber, nestled within the unfamiliar yet cozy confines of a bed in a strange abode.

As the seasons turned, marking the passage of a full year, the landscape of your life underwent a transformation most remarkable. You later came to learn that Mr. Scrooge had dedicated considerable effort and resources in a quest to locate your parents, a concept to you both vague and elusive. Alas, his endeavors bore no fruit. Nevertheless, this gentleman, reborn in spirit and compassion, could not in good conscience abandon a child to the vagaries of fate. Thus, it came to be that you were warmly welcomed into the care of a family. Yet, Mr. Scrooge, ever the guardian of your welfare, frequently bestowed his personal attentions upon you, ensuring your comfort and well-being in this new chapter of your extraordinary journey.

The family you were placed with was:

[] The Cratchits
[] Fred and Lily Scrooge

The name you ended up going by was:

[] Kal
[] Clark
[] Write-in?

xxxxx
Vote Away!