The Ultimate Punishment

A New Threat

What makes a hero? That's a hard question to answer but in retrospect the easier question is what doesn't make a person a hero.

Simple: their clothes, if they wear a mask or have a catch phrase. Hero's don't need dolls or tv specials. They don't need praise.

So back to the main question: what makes a person a hero? A hero is different to everyone but a universal answer is someone who cares to make someone else's life better.

Policemen, doctors, fireman, soldiers come to mind but there's many more. The teachers, parents, your neighborhood grocer could all be hero's to someone.

Hero's aren't far and few, they are everywhere because anyone of us can be a hero to someone.

We are also our own hero. Everyday when we get out of bed, make ourselves face the day ahead of us and make ourselves happy, we are a hero. Maybe you don't jump out of buildings or dodge bullets but your making the world a better place by being a part of it.

So next time someone asks "who's your hero? Smile, point to yourself and say "me".

Iris West-Allen and Karen Page

New York Bulletin

What makes a hero?

Published Feb.9,2018

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New York City: Homeland Office

Dinah Madani sighed and threw the newspaper in the backseat of her car. She had only checked the article out because she liked Karen. She met Iris once when she first came to town but all she knew about her was her husband is a crime scene investigator for the SCPD and her dad is a detective at the same police station. It wasn't a bad article and made a lot of sense. She would have to call Karen and congratulate her on another wonderful story.

Dinah climbed into the drivers seat and placed her badge and gun on the passengers side. She then proceeded to head over to her favorite coffee place and got herself a cup of hot coffee to go.

The drive home was scenic and quiet. She watched as the city disappeared and the open farmland case into view.

She had all she could take of the city so she moved into a family farmhouse her mother had bought but never used. She even insisted on paying her mother for it.

She missed her mom being around even though she always drove her crazy. Farah said she had a business venture to take care of. That was her mom, always on the move.

As she pulled up to the farmhouse, she saw the rescue horses she had saved. They used to be carriage horses in Central Park but using her family name and money she bought them and opened up the farm to them. Their names were Roci and Ceres. She also had cows, pigs and sheep all that she had rescued from other farms.

"Hey Roci, Hey Ceres, mama's home" Dinah called at the gate. They came trotting over and she gave them each a sugar cube from the bag in her purse.

Heading inside she placed her purse, gun and keys on the counter. It was quiet. She went into the kitchen and opened the side cabinet she started reaching for some whiskey but stopped. That wasn't her anymore. She turned on the coffee pot behind her and leaned against the fridge.

As the coffee pot bubbles she heard avoice from her living room. Quietly moving forward she stopped immediately. For a moment, only a quick moment she felt the urge to reach for her gun but after a quick reality check and some inner chastising, she relaxes and smiled.