The tale of the fish tacos @AKA bistro

He snapped his gold-gilded book shut. “Damn you!” He screamed. Looking down at the book, he screamed again, “DAMN YOU!” His voice echoed through the walls of the hospital. Superpowers were only in books. And he was no superman. His eyes glistened as he thought about the hole in his heart. Growing up on stories full of magical powers that made people invincible, somewhere he began to think of himself as a superhero.

So when the doctors told him about his condition, all he did was stare at them. He noticed the pity in their eyes, the way they looked at him and his pathetic self. It made him uncomfortable. He looked away blinking back the tears, his little legs swinging back and forth from the chair. Leaving his book behind on the hospital bench, he realised that he had lost all hope. His mother held his tiny hand in hers and said, “Are you hungry?” Looking into her eyes and the way they darted back and forth trying to find answers, trying to make things better—he sensed, she was nervous. He smiled at her and said, “Yes.” It was his turn to feel pity. This news had hurt her far more than it would ever hurt him. As they sat on the dining table at the restaurant, she said, “You’re still my superhero.” He couldn’t believe that she was saying this to him. “And what are my superpowers? Haan?” He retorted.

Just then, a tray of fish tacos were presented as an answer to his question. Even in that fit of rage, his expression relaxed and his tone softened as he said to the waiter, “Thank you, uncle.” His mother bit into the tacos, the soft meat of the fish melting in her mouth as she said, “You answered your own question. Your golden heart is your superpower. The hole in it makes it all the more special.” Looking down at his empty plate, he shed another tear. And then, all of a sudden, he looked at the world differently. He had a superpower indeed.

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