*Disclaimer: I don't own Spider-Man, or anything -- so don't sue me (but feel free to review). =)
"When it rains like this, it's like Heaven itself is crying."
It's just one phrase.
Eleven words -- Fourteen syllables.
Even through all of its simplicity, though, it sticks with me to this day. Heh.. I can still remember the first time I heard it. I wasn't very old. I was sitting out on the porch with my Uncle Ben.. something I did a lot (in-between studying and reading, of course). I swear.. that man had to be one of the wisest men to have ever lived. Anyway, he said it amidst a downpour. You know.. one of the times where it's "raining cats and dogs?" He's probably the reason I love listening to the rain so much.
..Although I seriously doubt, back then, either of us pictured me listening to the rain like this.. mounted to the side of a skyscraper; my only protection from the rain coming from the fact that I'm right below the fixture of a gargoyle.
It isn't exactly the most normal way of listening to the rain, but it's relaxing just the same. I don't recommend it if you haven't been bitten by a radioactive spider, though. You might be able to pull it off if an alien symbiote has attached itself to you.. but I'd rather not go there.
I love times like these. The times when I can just kick back, although not always hundreds of feet up in the air, and reflect upon things. I mean.. don't get me wrong! Being a super-hero has its advantages. (Even if I seldom get to appreciate them. Thanks, J.J.) It's just, most of the time, I'm either brooding about the loss.. or I'm fighting the next bad guy that comes along. Well, in most cases, the same bad guy whom I've already taken down who just refuses to learn.
Speaking of bad guys.. It's about 8:30, and Jonah wanted me to come into the Bugle to check something out. Ah well.. I can always relax later. (I'm really hoping that if I tell myself that enough that I'll actually start to believe it.)
I move my fingers to my wrist, activating my webbing, and I'm off. The strand connects to the next building, and I begin my routine that's been christened "web-slinging." (For obvious reasons.)
It's a bit harder when the weather's like this, but I do just fine. I've been doing this for years, after all. I'm sure I could do this with my eyes closed! .. Granted, now that I've said that, I'll probably smack right into Iron Man, or something.
Sometimes I think that I take my life as Spider-Man for granted. I mean, not many people have seen the stars.. been to alternate realities.. and been cloned (but I'd rather not go there). Not all of it has been good.. but I guess I should try and focus more on the positive aspects. I have to, subconsciously, I think.. considering I haven't went insane yet. (For the most part, anyway.)
I'm about to the Bugle now, so I should probably find a dark alley somewhere and Parker-ize. Not that J.J. isn't extremely fond of Spider-Man. I'm sure he'd looooove for the webslinger to stop by. (What do you mean that was dripping with sarcasm?!)
With a few flips here and there, I'm down on the ground. Pssh -- name one thing the circus has on me. (Besides that really, really good popcorn.)
Greeeeeeaaaaat... just when I'm ready to call it a night for everyone's favorite arachnid, "Hello, Spider-sense!" That's odd.. I don't see anyone. But, then again, I should know better than to just step into plain sight, looking around for whoever -- or whatever -- set the 'sense off.
It's hard enough to see through all of this rain, anyway. You know.. it figures. I pick the one alley that would randomly have trouble in it to change in. Not that it was a smart thing to begin with, anyway, because all of Peter Parker's clothes are now drenched.
Heh.. here we go. It seems like I've found the source of the problem. I love stupidity, sometimes! This kid is actually trying to break into a car, and yet he's listening to his mommy. (I assume, anyway. I mean.. who else would tell you to wear a BRIGHT yellow rain jacket when it's raining like this?)
I guess the only reason my 'sense picked him up was because he could've saw me. The last thing I need is for some punk kid to learn my secret identity.. so, it makes sense to me. Might as well stop 'em.
"Hey, kid!" I shout, sticking to the side of the brick wall behind him. It's more dramatic that way.. I mean, ANY ole Spider-wannabe could just walk out of the alley in a rip-off of my costume. "Having trouble gettin' into your car?"
I stifle my laughter as I watch the kid jump. I really should take this more seriously. But after you face villains like the Green Goblin and Venom so many times, a simple punk on the street isn't that big of a deal. "Actually," the kid begins, panic-stricken, "I am. Can you help me?"
..Wow. Reality check, Parker! The "kid" is about 45! He certainly doesn't look like a punk, either. In fact, he looks like one of those sweet old men who sit on park benches and throw bread crumbs to the ducks. The kind of man who's never even hurt a fly. And here he is, soaking wet, trying to get into his car. Yeesh.. I think I get a little paranoid when I have a day where nothing goes wrong, and there isn't some menace plaguing the streets that I have to stop.
It takes me a minute, but I see that the guy is off. Onward, to Jameson! (Right after a quick change into the drenched clothing of Peter Parker, that is.)
Ahh.. what a life.