Bearings

All great heroes need a place to call their own

“Oh I am not dead”. That’s a nice surprise.

That was the what rattled through Tyson’s head as he opened his eyes and his vision began to clear.

 

His head was pounding and he could taste dry blood on his lips but he didn’t care. The taste, the feelings, they meant he was alive. Tyson rolled over in the dry dust around him and slowly bought himself onto his knees. He planted his right foot firmly into the ground which awoke a small cloud of dust and ash. Wherever he was he had obviously be here for a while. As he began to get a little altitude Tyson began to familiarise himself with his surroundings. He stood directly in the middle of a crater no more than 10ft across, this confused him. His last recollections were of a fiery inferno that could have levelled a city yet here he was standing in what could have been an empty pond.

 

As Tyson stepped out of the crater his confusion became greater. “What the…hell?” he muttered to himself. He found himself in the middle of endless amounts of lush green carpeting the ground as far as the eye could see. To a man such as Tyson who had literally seen the world burn, grass was welcome-in fact it was a pleasure. As he forced his eyes up from the mouth-watering ground an even greater surprise to hold of the man who had been through hell. “Its not poss..” he began to mutter before rubbing his eyes harshly just to confirm what he was seeing was true.

The Empire State Building towered over Tyson intimidatingly like a disappointed parent staring down upon him.

 

“Im in..no I cant be” Tyson exclaimed.

 

But he was. He was in Central Park.