Lucky Strikes

Just the other day, a chance at supernatural powers missed me by thirty feet. Had the lightning bolt chosen me over the nearby power line, things might be different today.

Thanks to the ten o’clock news and their quest for drama, countless images of destruction have instilled a healthy respect for Mother Nature. The spectacle generated from a severe thunderstorm is magnificent; sometimes, you just can’t help but watch from the open doorway of a third-floor balcony.

While calculating the distance of a blinding lightning strike, a deafening crack seemed to originate from within my very own eardrums—every electric oscillation was audible. Electric current, or flying debris, found my hand braced against the metal door frame. I humbly watched the rest of the show from deep within the—now—unlit dwelling.

Later, when journeying out in search for an operable wall socket, I found a huge chunk of bark lying on the sidewalk in front of the condo. A nearby tree bared a jagged scar where the bolt scored a line deep into its trunk. Perhaps I did feel debris, or current, or both.

Lucky? I guess. But I can’t shake mild disappointment. I could have become clairvoyant, or gained some other equally impressive talent. Pleased to toss out the likely possibility of mortal wounding or fatality. Instead, I’m left with an insatiable appetite for all things sweet—as usual.

Hindsight exposes intuition we perhaps ignore. Tossing a coin, for example, can provide insight to what we really desire. When the coin comes to rest, you immediately know if you wished for that particular outcome, or not. No, I’m not saying that I will pair heads with swimming next time I hear thunder, but, apparently, one side of my coin is favored.

Perhaps you had a similar experience this week, an “almost”—something that could, and you wished would, have happened? Feel free to shed some light on your change in the comments section below.