I stretched out my arms in front of me like Superman. I felt the wind rushing past my ears and my cape fluttering out behind me. The streets and trees and houses glided past below. I felt weightless and completely free. It was like those flying dreams I used to have when I was a little kid.

I scanned the streets below for crime. Not much going on down there, though. Shops opening their shutters. People on their way to work, driving cars, hopping on and off buses. A few looked up and noticed me, and then more and more, and soon there were crowds of people gawping and pointing up at me. I waved at them.

Well, I flew around for a bit, waiting for something to kick off so I could fly down and stop it. Nothing happened. Well, nothing illegal. Listening to the news sometimes you’d think we lived in some sort of a war zone, with people being attacked and killed all over the place. It’s not till you fly around above a whole town and watch it in action that you realize how law-abiding people are most of the time. They just go round getting on with their lives. No one even jumped a red light.

The morning dragged on. I got tired of waiting. I was sure there must be some crimes going on somewhere.

‘I wish I was wherever the nearest person breaking the law is,’ I said aloud.

Whoosh! I landed on the pavement near a bloke parking his car on double-yellow lines.

Hmm . . . It wasn’t really the type of crime I’d been imagining. I mean, I don’t think Batman gets called on the hotline whenever someone double-parks in Gotham City. I’d have preferred a bank job, to be honest. For a moment I thought of wishing for one, but then I realized that would be pretty silly. A super-hero who only solves crimes he’s wished for himself. Like, Pointless Man.

Oh well. You have to work with what you get.

‘Hold it,’ I said, as the bloke got out of his car. He was a black bloke with glasses and a suit and tie. ‘You can’t park there.’

‘It’s only for a minute, I need to get something in that shop—’

‘Sorry, that’s not allowed.’

‘Look, why don’t you mind your own business?’

‘It is my business, my friend, my duty is to uphold the law—’

‘Are you a traffic warden?’

‘You’ll have to move that car.’

‘They’ve changed the uniform if you are!’

‘Never mind about that—’

‘That’s the most ridiculous uniform I’ve ever seen. And we’re paying for that out of our council tax? It’s a disgrace!’

‘Look, I’m not a traffic warden—’

‘What uniform is it, then?’

‘It’s not a uniform, it’s a costume.’

‘A fancy dress costume?’

‘No, it’s my costume. The costume of . . . Awesome Man!’