When you’re hot, you’re hot (by Heather)

You wake up one day with an unusual super power that seems pretty worthless—until you are caught in a situation that requires that specific "talent."

I roll over and dodge the sunbeam that slices onto my pillow through the crack in the curtains.

I am instantly awake. I peel open an eye to check if Sophie is still there beside me – whew! – indeed she is, and I have to tell you, she looks even more wonderful than she did last night.

She looks like a goddess. Her eyes have tiny little puffy bits underneath them and her hair is sticking out in little spikes. The slightest little thread of drool is resting by her gorgeous mouth. She is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

I roll back carefully with my elbows akimbo behind my head. In one way, I feel like a regular dude (maybe for the first time in my life), in another way I feel like a super hero. I try to look cool in case there’s an audience somewhere, but I can’t help a happy little curl coming onto the corner of my lips.

I mean, Sophie wasn’t my first. Well, maybe sort of my first if you’re being really technical – as long as you understand that there’s something special about her besides being my, well, okay, first.

And I feel, I dunno, DIFFERENT somehow. I feel muscley and tough and protective and invincible. I recall the moment last night when, you know…when IT happened. I felt as if I could dart up the side of a building or lift a busload of trapped tourists or something like that. I still have that feeling. Call me an idiot if you like, but I have to test if I’ve really been given a superpower.

I slip quietly out of bed. I feel like a clown but nonetheless I put my hands against the wall experimentally to see if I can do the Spiderman thing. Surprise! – nothing happens. I put a finger on the bottom corner of the big dresser and try to lift it. Surprise! – I break my fingernail. I stare at the aftershave bottle and WILL it to rise into the air but it just sits there. I check out the guy looking look back at me in the mirror. He flexes his abs and the ol’ 6-pack looks just as pathetic as usual – except the guy is grinning and his eyes keep shifting back to check out that miracle on the bed.

Though the guy in the mirror looks a bit hopeless, it doesn’t alter my feeling that he should have a superpower. I look again at Sophie, who stirs a little. Then in a moment of blinding clarity, I realise that this whole thing with her is special enough that I don’t have to go searching for superpowers like a kid.


At that exact moment I notice voices outside the window. I draw back the curtain slightly and observe my two old mates, crimson rosellas, according to the bird book. The one hanging on the bird feeder calls out, “You! Speckles! Don’t forget to keep watch!” The other one, Speckles obviously, is sitting on the balcony rail and shouts back, “I’m watching, I’m watching, I’m watching. And hurry up because it’s my turn to get into the food action next.”

They squabble back and forth for a full minute, the one on the feeder pecking away, stalling and taking his sweet time while his partner gets increasingly antsy. Finally he says, “All right, sweetie, over to you. I’ll stand guard. Have you noticed our guy in the window watching us? Harmless obviously but I won’t be taking my eye off him.”

Suddenly my heart gives a little stutter and I realise I’m even stupider than I thought. It’s taken me THIS long to realise that they actually are talking, ENGLISH no less, to each other, and I’m listening.

I am gob-smacked. My first thought is, “Well, THAT’S nifty. Fancy being able to understand bird conversation!” And then my second thought is a little whinge, something like, “Geez, I DID get a superpower, but does it have to be THIS one!?”

Suddenly I feel the lightest touch on the back of my neck, and there’s Sophie standing beside me, stretching a little and rubbing her eyes. She looks out the window and says, “Aren’t those rosellas stunning!? I’d give ANYTHING to know what they’re saying to each other.”

I look at Sophie, I look at the rosellas, I glance at my reflection in the window.

Maybe I won’t trade in this superpower just yet.