Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • You were the heroes. The masters of the Universe. The dispute was simple and the stakes were high. Protect the World.

    You were Men. The Super, the Spider, the Bat and the He-men. Plastic masculinity. Your capes were as bold as your desire for good. Your underwear and your morals clean and out in the open for everyone to see. You had dark pasts and complicated relationships with women. You had day jobs.You knew your enemies. Jokers and Riddlers with their sinister snickering. Malnourished mad men in cloaks. Those whose houses were called lairs and whose lairs were difficult to get to. You fought these enemies with brains and brawn. Both your character and strength were superhuman. Powerful protectors lifting buildings and buses. Throwing cars.

    And then the dark night came and my mother called. I had to leave you be while I fulfilled my frivolous five year old routine of eating and bathing and most unproductive of all, sleeping. But I knew once I awoke you would be there. Waiting. Under the bed. On the windowsill. Patiently, under yesterdays clothes. Anticipating yet another fight for what was good in the world.

    As always, ready for action figures.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.