New Age
Maria’s vacant eyes stared back at her from the reflection. News reports played over the sound of raindrops clattering against the glass.
The night-time breeze brushed through the window — the smell of the New York air mingling with the cat litter.
“Just in, tonight. Another bad day for The Coalition as the notorious criminal, Confetto escaped from prison... again. Leaders from across the state have been—”
A bowl crashed against the tile. Maria flinched.
She turned her head with a smile, sleeve-covered fingers wiping her teary cheeks.
“Oh, Diana,” she whispered — ceramic shards cutting into her knees. “You’re grumpy too, huh?”
Fingers pinched against the jagged edges, she dropped the pieces into the trash.
“I know just what you need.” A gentle smile pressed against her cheeks, shaking a bag of treats above the counter.
Sudden rings of a telephone echoed against the walls. Treats scattered as every muscle tensed.
The cat purred, her gentle touch lingering for a moment longer before lifting the phone to her ear.
“Masters? Maria Masters?” The voice spoke against the static.
She nodded, catching herself. “Yeah, uh... yes. Speaking.”
“I’m so sorry about your grandmother,” the voice sounded gentle and rehearsed. “She left a box — locked with your name written on it.”
“You’re clearing out her apartment?” she muttered, eyes twinkling under the moonlight.
“Yeah, listen. Could you swing by? You’re welcome to take anything that’s left.”
She nodded again, wiping at her cheeks.
“Miss Masters?”
“Yes, uh — I’m a few blocks away. I still have a key.” Her feet moved into the soft slippers by the door.
“Alright. Again, so sorry for your...”
Her thumb squeezed against the buttons before throwing the phone onto the couch.
Another cat ran between her legs, tripping her into the door.
“Won’t be a moment, my lovelies.”
Her palm gripped the cold handle, twisting with a sigh.
Hood pulled tight with earphones trailing down her front, she stepped into the haze.
Sirens wailed as reds and blues illuminated buildings. She walked onward, head nodding to the beat of music.
Shoes squeaking against the metal, graffiti painting the railings. The key turned and she made her way into the empty apartment.
Bare walls and pulled up carpets. She exhaled, stepping into the living room with the same energy as all the times before.
The box sat near plastic bags on the couch. Keys jingled as she moved the keyrings — charms and characters.
Maria carried the box to the dining table, staring for a moment at the empty seats.
"Miss you, Nana," she whispered.
A small metal key fit perfectly into the lock. She lifted the lid, greeted by the red and blue material of a costume.
She frowned, holding it against the light.
Her eyes darted to the door, left slightly ajar — the halls silent. She stepped into the kitchen, changing quickly in the darkness.
Boots clicked as she stepped back into the light.
The plastic bags rustled — fingers moving against the photos and trinkets.
A broken bracelet dropped from a hole, pieces rolling under the furniture.
Knees against the floorboards, she pressed her head lower — lifting the couch with one hand to reach for the bead.
She moved toward the front door, weightless and silent — feet hovering above the ground.
Her head dropped, a soft giggle escaping her lips as she lifted further toward the ceiling.
Palms against the wall, she spun in a slow circle — balance faltering.
The door clicked behind, feet clapping against the floor.
She grinned, feet rushing up the stairwell and into the cold as she stumbled through the roof access doorway.
Sounds and voices overwhelmed her as she stood at the edge. Eyes closed, she took a deep breath.
The voices faded one by one. The sound of tires screeching replaced by the wind blowing against her blonde hair.
She pumped her fist into the air, jumping — feet immediately connecting with the wall as she balanced herself.
“Ah — ah.” She bounced — ignoring the butterflies in her stomach.
Arms stretched out and legs shaken, she tried again. Knees bent, she thrust herself upward, fingers breaking the air overhead.
She shot into the sky — a blur of red and blue.
“Whoa,” she gasped at the view of the city lights. Advertisements from Times Square visible from miles away.
Arms waving, she fell toward a building across the street. Her palms connected with the gravel as her chest hit the roof.
She dusted herself, jumping with both arms raised — then one.
Knees bent, a forceful motion propelled her into the air.
Rain turned to tiny icicles as she exhaled, shattering with gentle cracks against the roof below.
She cheered out loud as she burst through the air, slowing to a hover as the sound of a vehicle speeding nearby.
Hands outstretched, she twirled under the rain with a laugh.
She moved her arms inward, slowly as she tried to hover still.
Her fingers danced as she waved to a girl staring from a top-floor window.
The girl stared, mouth wide — hesitantly waving back.
Feet kicking, she maintained a slow glide past the windows.
She turned quickly toward the raucous.
Glass shattering, cars crashing — the truck destroyed anything in its path as police chased behind.
The booming sound of a collision echoed across the streets.
Her eyes followed the noise — a red silhouette moving quickly behind the buildings near the bright flames.
Feet dangling against the air, she followed from above.
Boots slammed against the puddles, dollar bills fluttering against the wind.
A dark figure watched from the rooftops, a younger man knelt beside — stare unmoving from the chaos below.
Maria dropped from the sky, red boots slamming into the concrete — dust pluming.
She smiled at his tattoos — face covered in stitches. Hair colourful and curled.
He dropped the bag of money at his feet, reaching for his holster.
She stepped forward with deliberate slowness as the bullets bounced from her chest.
Confetto laughed, reaching for his other pocket.
Her fingers wrapped around his wrist as she looked up into his cheery eyes.
She squeezed — harder and harder until he dropped to his knees.
The sound of static moved against her ears. The sound of a radio dial turning nearby.
He chuckled. “You can’t keep me in a cage forever. I’ll always find—”
“Three corrections officers were killed during the escape. Investigators are still piecing—”
Her fist forced against his face.
He laughed out loud.
“Yet another breakout, marking the fifth high profile escape this year...”
Straight, deliberate thrusts — one after another.
She punched through his weakening giggles. She ignored his gasps for breath.
“Enough, I surr—”
Something cracked under her fingers, blood pooling at his knees.
Her gloves squeaked under the pressure, fist tightening.
Eyes glowing, the red blurring against the rain.
She punched again and again until he fell back against the asphalt.
Water splashed as she stood tall above the broken man. She rested her boot against his cheek.
She added more weight. Then more until her foot forced its way into the ground.
Police flooded from both directions. The shadowy figure watched, palm pressing against the other’s chest as they tried to move.
Maria nodded with one last glance at the mess splattered below.
Hands on her hips, she looked back at the officers with a satisfied smile.
Officers stared. A radio dropped to the ground.
Another held his stomach.
She waved.
Fist pumped into the air, knees bent then thrust — she bounced into the sky.
