Fiction: A Day in the Life of Captain SuperMiracle

“Why – why, look! It’s Harkness Rorholm, the church organist and intrepid, three-time Pulitzer Prize-winning, crusading freelance photographer!”

Rorholm smiled at the young man, accustomed to being recognized by well-informed people wherever he went; his handsome Aryan features and naturally wavy blond hair were every bit as familiar to those in the know as his work.

“The very same,” he quipped. He fished a business card from a pocket of his perfectly pressed suit and gave it to the fellow as a souvenir:

Harkness Rorholm
Senior Organist (All Saints Episcopal)
Three-Time Pulitzer Prize Winner
Intrepid, Crusading Freelance Photographer

and it was already autographed.

“Gosh, thanks, Mr. Rorholm!” the youth gushed. Rorholm, still smiling at him, walked on down the sidewalk.

He stopped suddenly, his sensitive nose smelling something burning just as he heard a cry for help. He looked across the street at an open window six stories up in an apartment building where a wisp of smoke lazily trailed out.

He aimed his camera at the window and the altered viewfinder showed him what danger lay inside.

The appeal from the window came louder, and people on the street looked up. Rorholm took advantage of their inattention and swiftly vaulted upward and onto the roof of the building he had been standing in front of. There, under the shade of a water tower, he doffed the outer garments of the organist and freelance photographer and became something even more — Captain SuperMiracle.

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