You are walking down a winding dirt back road. It is about an hour before sunset, crisp and cool. You look up and a vast distance down the path you see a figure heading in your direction. You are surprised to have seen someone so far away. But, you keep walking, expecting nothing more than a friendly nod as you pass. He gets closer. You see he has a flowing red cape. He is closer–a blue bodysuit with a yellow-red crest on the chest. Closer–craggy features on a chalk-white face, and blue highlights in a disheveled mop of raven-black hair. You and he are fifty yards apart. You, and Bizarro, the cracked mirror image of Superman are twenty yards apart. You approach on the lonely country avenue. You nod. He salutes, and flies off.

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