Two a second

Clark sat on the rooftop and did nothing. So far 543 people had died.

Faint cries for help echoed in the distance. He could be there in an instant. Maybe he would answer the right call. Save a life. Keep the statistics down. On the other hand…

Not every cry for help mattered. What mattered was finding the ones that did.

Clark shivered and pulled his cape tighter around him, even though he didn’t feel the cold. He didn’t feel anything. Just the constant clamour of 565 lives.

He should go home. It was later than he had intended and he would have to sleep at some point. Even he needed sleep.

There was the matter of these 572 souls though.

Sighing, Clark unfurled himself and stood, marking a bleak silhouette against the moonlight.

If he flew out now, he could save maybe a few of them. Only a few. Even he, with all his speed and power, barely made a dent in the tragedy of mankind.

He had considered giving up. Of quitting, and hiding, sulking in his solitude. Which would make him feel worse, of course. Doing nothing always did.

But was doing something any better? He felt pretty terrible even then.

Another cry for help, this one closer. Possibly even on the same continent. Too close to be ignored.

Clark stopped concentrating and let the world back in. He had been sitting for five minutes and eighteen and a half seconds. Far too long. Lois would be waiting for him at home; surely she could wait a little longer. In his brief moment of contemplation, a total of 637 people had died.

No rest for the wicked, Clark thought. He swirled his cloak and flew off into the night.