His hands were rough and solid like granite. They could close like a vice, yet if you were to shake one or hold the other you felt warmth and somehow protection.

Simon Steeple’s eyes slowly opened. He had caught little sleep. Night succumbed to day and its light filled his top floor apartment through it’s ceiling, which was comprised entirely of glass. He sat up in his bed and slowly swung his feet to the floor. He ran his right hand through his closely shorn hair and twisted his torso to the left, then to the right, systematically popping each vertebrae in his broad back. He rose and took the mere 15 paces between his bed and refrigerator. His movement was silent despite the weight of a large, yet athletic frame. He opened the door and removed a gallon jug, which had originally contained milk, but that purpose had been served long ago. It now was filled with an off-putting green colored liquid, half of which he imbibed in a single raise of the jug. He dressed himself in shorts, shoes, a tank top, and a sock cap. He grabbed his phone and put the handle of the jug between his teeth. There was a wrought iron ladder in the corner leading to the roof, which he ascended.

As Simon stretched his muscles on the roof he listened to the police scanner on his phone. It was a quiet morning as he began his exercises. He had a 30 minute routine of quick firing musculature building actions with little to no break in between sets. The routine was capped off by an act you would have to see to believe, but Simon always made sure no one was watching. Positioning himself at one edge of the roof he sprinted as fast as he could toward the other and as he approached he leapt from its safety, reaching his right arm out behind him to catch the edge of the guard wall he had just cleared. He dangled here, from the edge of his 15 story apartment building only for a moment before pulling himself back up. He repeated the sprint, leap, and catch once again with his left arm. Then again his right. He did this for 7 rounds of each arm. This exercise, of his own creation, served him well in his endeavors, but one second’s hesitation, one second’s lack of concentration and it would spell his doom. However, Simon was a man of extreme concentration.

After his workout he retreated down the wrought iron stairs, showered, shaved, and dressed himself. Simon strives to be a kind man. He does his best to care for others, to maintain patience in difficult situations, to notice people in need of help. He has not had an easy life but he remains hopeful. He is also realistic. Simon zips up his coat, checking himself in the mirror by his front door. He exits, on his way to his day job- as an ambulance driver. But by night he is known as something else. To those who would seek to hurt others, the kind and humble Simon Steeple is known as The Samaritan.