Burying Superman

“Never give an inch boy,” a drunken uncle once told me. It sounded like a spell to ward off vicious dogs, rabid priests; any jackass or villain with crooked eyes. Superman is a plastic 3-inch-high figure, a talisman I keep in my jeans pocket. Make an incision into an inch, divide the scar fill up the razor thin gash with salt from secret tears. Eat a broken tooth. An inch was always too deep for superman, too high to withstand. The ‘inch’ is an alligator 10 miles long. At night when no one is looking - bury superman.