Gotham's Story
Alfred opens the door to his car and you sit in the front seat. In the floorboard is Alfred's missing hankerchief; wet, and smelling of salt. He must have been in tears the entire ride here and didn't want you to see.
"You're very strong, Alfred," you say quietly.
A smile grows on his face. "So are you, Master Bruce."
"Why did they die, Alfred?"
"Your parents were wonderful people; some of the best in Gotham. But the world is not without cruelty. There is injustice still in it."
You turn towards the car window and mull over those words. Not for long, you think. When I am older and stronger, there won't be.
"You're very strong, Alfred," you say quietly.
A smile grows on his face. "So are you, Master Bruce."
"Why did they die, Alfred?"
"Your parents were wonderful people; some of the best in Gotham. But the world is not without cruelty. There is injustice still in it."
You turn towards the car window and mull over those words. Not for long, you think. When I am older and stronger, there won't be.