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The Moral Uplift of Jonathan Kent

Clark’s dad always smelled like fear. But never more than the night he told Clark about the ship he came in, and the unearthly metal it was made of.

“So, what did the metallurgist say to people when he found something that rare?”

“Oh, he won’t be telling anyone with a slit throat.”

“WHAT? You killed someone? — “

“After the first one it gets easier.”

“WHAT?”

“Whatever it takes. I explained this. I’m willing. You can tell them I protected you when the time comes.”

“Huh? What time?”

“Son, all I know is you were sent here for a purpose. And I just want the Elder Gods to kill me first as a reward for preparing your way.”

“Dad, you’re freaking me out.”

“All I can do is submit and obey, son. I’m just one man and I mean nothing, and I know that, and I’ve taught you that too, that people mean nothing. Because I love you and don’t want you to feel guilt on the day you rain destruction and chaos and fire till all the earth is rubble and skulls.”

“…”

“I wish I didn’t have to see it. I can pray for some great whirlwind or something to take me and kill me before it happens, but that would be too much to hope for.” He choked back tears of anguish for the future.

“I’d save you!”

“Hm”

©2015 John L. Roberson. All rights reserved.