He was about to fire lasers from his eyes.
He screamed knowing that heat emanating from his eyes would be painful.
His colleagues in school laughed.
They trampled his lunch box and called him racial slurs.
He wiped a tear and walked back to his seat.
He contemplated the following: If I were to commit suicide, there will be plenty of Facebook posts, regrets about not being there when I needed someone, a dissection of my good deeds and character. But the saddest part is that with so many so-called friends, I just couldn’t talk with anyone. Let’s be real, funerals are a place to voice regret and alleviate guilt.
THIS was his reality. Or, was it?
But on a different Earth in a different reality, he was firing lasers from his eyes.
He watched them burn.
A crow squawked in alarm and took to the sky away from the heat and the burning flesh.
In THIS reality, the same yet different crow, took to the sky in alarm, wondering why it thought there was the smell of burning flesh somewhere.