Another brilliant chapter, Smirky Raven. Well, I don't know what to call you this time. I'd appreciate a name!
I'm sorry I'm just going to quote one passage here, but I find it extremely beautiful:
“I’m s-scared, Mom.” He was crying in earnest now, shaking as the world seemed to tumble off his shoulders. He was safe, here. Safe with the only woman he had known as a mother. The woman who had created him—had made him, in every way that mattered…a human.
This is simply perfect. So absolutely beautiful.
Okay, I've changed my mind. There will be two more quotes.
They had phoned the Kents, who had been at Clark’s apartment catching a few hours of sleep. Jonathan’s expression had gone pasty. He had finished up the call and hung the phone up carefully. Then, he’d just said one thing:
“They’re going to dissect my boy like a frog.”
And then, he’d collapsed.
This, too, is perfect. Yes, that is what your story has been about so far, isn't it? They
did dissect Clark like a frog, because he was an alien.
But to Martha, Clark is not an alien:
Martha had tried to keep up her flagging spirits, to keep on hoping that her little, perfect star from the heavens would be all right… but no. Jonathan had been right all along.
To Martha, Clark is her little, perfect star from the heavens. Wow. So lovely.
Okay, come back with more soon, Smirky Raven!
Ann
