Is it a gift or some kind of aberration?

It began a week ago. The only thing I can tie to this whole puzzling mess comes down to a fuse, rendering my computer and everything else in my office dark. I trudged downstairs to the basement and set it right--resetting the power, but it was confusing. All I had running before the breaker tripped was the desk lamp and the computer. I'd never had electrical problems before.

When it happened again, I retraced my steps and went through the entire exercise again. The third time, I gave up. It was almost two AM and I was mentally and physically exhausted. I went to bed.

The next day--same issue. I finally called an electrician. "You've got a power surge going on," he said.

"What power?" I replied. "I had absolutely nothing going on--no laundry, dishwasher--nothing. I even had the heat turned off because the weather got better."

Sam, I figured his name was Sam from the name embroidered on his green work-shirt, clucked and humphed and ran around the house with a meter of some sort. "Can't see any problem here," he said and handed me a bill. "Try plugging your computer into another outlet." Duh, I thought. It's a laptop for Christ's sake. I don't have to plug it in.

I took the computer out to the deck and tried to continue writing my story. Damn. Just as soon as I logged onto the writing site, an error message came up. No matter which outlet I plugged into, I couldn't log back in. By the end of the day, I called Sam and told him to get his sorry ass back and install a new power box. "Sure, but you've got adequate juice."

What did he know? It took two days, something about special ordering parts, before I could log in, but then I could surf and navigate the web like a NASCAR driver.

I'd missed reviews, contest results, but as I pulled up my portfolio, I was stunned. Slack-jawed, I blinked at the six star accolades. Damn! Every single response to everything I had listed was ablaze with star power. Totally humbled, I sat staring. Even I didn't think they all deserved sixes. Wow! Did I have power or what?

I began to type with uncontrollable passion, but strange things kept happening. I described the hero in my story and the doorbell rang. The UPS driver was the spitting image of the sentence I'd just typed. "I think you're waiting for me," he said as he took me into his arms.

No matter what I conjured up, it came to life. I reinvented myself, carved off poundage and years. Whatever I wanted majestically appeared. Within an hour I had riches, limousines and anxious lovers.

All would have been wonderful, had it not been for a tragic mistake. I opened my competitors' stories and began my journey into hell. 911!