Keep Calm and Trust in Iron Man

Today is Halloween.  At about 4:00 news broke that someone had driven a truck or a van through a crowd in a bike lane on Manhattan's west side.  Several people were feared dead and it was uncomfortably close to where my sister works.

As my work day neared its close, news broke that it was likely an act of a terrorist.  I was waiting to hear from my siblings and friends to make sure they were okay.

At 5:00 I went to the bathroom and changed into my running clothes.  I returned to my desk and sat on the floor to stretch like I do every day.  Butterfly, piriformis, hamstring.  My brother-in-law texted that my sister was okay.  That was the last sibling I was waiting to hear from so I put in my headphones and began my run home.

I stopped and started and jerked through and zipped through throngs of super heroes and princesses and ninjas and pirates, leaping into bus lanes and gutters to avoid the crowds.  I finished my run, stopped at the grocery store for raw chicken, and went home.

I stepped into the elevator in my building with a young family.  Mom, Dad, and three foot tall Iron Man.

"Three."  Said Mom.

Iron Man reached up and fumbled for the buttons but couldn't find the right one.

"Three."  Said Mom again.

Iron Man puzzled over the buttons and tilted his head back.  Further and further.

"What are you doing?"  Said Mom.

"I think he's having a little trouble with his mask," I said as Iron Man finally found the right button and the doors closed.  Mom laughed and the car left.  Iron Man grabbed her hand and (I think but it was hard to tell under the mask) blushed a little.

"Happy Halloween" said Iron Man as the door opened on three and he left with Mom and Dad.

Thank goodness for Iron Man.

Peter Amos