Miss. Morix

7

     I didn't want to get out of bed. I didn't even want to move a muscle. I had a long week...or so it felt it. Days without discoveries, or simply progressions, seem to drag. I'm well aware my body hasn't been through much physical exertion, but my mind felt as if though it itself has run a marathon. I was hungry though, and figured staying in bed wasn't going to help settle my stomach.
I set the coffee machine to brew and switched on the television. Nothing fancy, just an average sized television. The reporter was discussing with the Senator the Superman epidemic. They went back and forth, each taking a turn to share their opinions of what exactly Superman's role should be in society.

     Senator Finch insisted that a prerequisite committee to study and learn more about Superman before making any sort of decision on the matter. The reporter played devil's advocate, trying to use the obvious observation that Senator Finch was refraining from making an ultimate decision of how to approach the existence of the alien superhero from a subjective viewpoint in his favor.

     It all seemed repetitive for a while. That is, until the reporter mentioned, or rather asked about, a hearing to determine the consequences of Superman's actions. It was said that Superman may or may not show to testify and to that Senator Finch claimed it was outrageous to hold trial without holding a committee meeting to discuss all of the plausible interpretations and intentions of Superman's actions. In rebuttal the reporter managed to speak about how our rights mandated trials and that if Superman wanted to be thought of as one of us, he must undergo what the rest of us would.
     She stated that she felt as if though Senator Barrows and Senator Stearns should be present in discussing this controversy, which they wouldn't be via trial. I didn't recognize the judge's name, or anyone else's name. Until they mentioned who the court stenographer for this case would be. The trusted, admirable, Lois Lane.

She didn't mention this. Not once. I felt the pit stemming slightly within my chest, behind my rib cage. Picking up my phone, I dialed her hastily.

"Hello?"
"Lois, can we talk for a moment?" I stated rather bluntly as I made up my coffee. No sugar, but a tad of milk. I like to taste some of the bitter palates of the coffee beans, but not overwhelmingly so that I would drink it black.

"Of course! Are you okay?" I wanted to ask her straightforwardly and simply state that I had seen it on television.
"I'm fine. Hey, uh, I have a question."
"Sure what's up?"
"I wanted to know if you knew about Superman's supposed trials. Is that happening? Will he go? I just saw it on the news." I was speaking rather rapidly.
"I don't know that he's decided yet."
"Are you enthusiastic to be the court stenographer? I mean, do you think you being there will make him want to go?"

There was a slight pause as she registered thatshe hadn't mentioned it to me.
"Why don't you come over? I'll explain it to you."

And so I did.