Story and Illustrations: Shell Presto
Allen Adams had always been content to go unnoticed. On the farm or in the air force, it was his experience that the nameless and the faceless were usually found doing the most important work. Being useful was what mattered, not recognition.
So it was ironic, and uncomfortable, that he should be standing in a roomful of the most prominent superheroes in the world. It was a small group — this afternoon party on Christmas Eve was just for the active members of . . .
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