It's Electric.

I've never been struck by lightning.

People often say that, as bad as my luck is, I have a habit of tempting fate. It seems anytime I've made a remark about something, probability instantly shifts to fulfill the contrary of my statement. Still, considering all the unlikely things I've endured, and a healthy paranoid childhood misconception that everybody goes through every bad thing as a natural rite of passage and growing up, it's quite remarkable that I've remained lightning-free. I used to work with a girl who once told me she survived multiple lightning strikes when she was 8.

But I've never been struck by lightning, not even once.

I played a relatively easy outdoor gig with one of my bands tonight, for some Republican barbecue. The clouds rolled in as the sun went down, and a slight breeze hinted at a storm to come. Driving home, I noticed some flashes in the sky, which my dad didn't see at first, and attributed to fireworks once he finally did. They were far too close together to be anything natural. Echoes of War of the Worlds danced in my head. As many years as I've been playing a metal instrument, outdoors, and occasionally in the rain, one thing has remained the same.

I've yet to be struck by lightning.

The electrical storm worsened as the night wore on and the lights flickered, and I typed furiously away at my keyboard. Every so often there would be a loud crack of lightning as my curtains blew in, and I was reminded of the forest behind my house and the fact that I've never had a tree fall on me either. I don't think I'd fare as well as Flat Stanley did with his bulletin board, so I don't mind admitting that I jumped the first few times. It was that close and loud. As rain began to pour and the wind blew furiously, I realized I'd best lean out and take hold of the metal casement windows, and pull them closed.

After all, I've never been struck by lightning.

I was in the middle of the second paragraph of tonight's post when I decided to check how long Weather.com expected the storm to last. The initial result for my zip code of “thunderstorms” I met with a raised eyebrow signifying “duh”. No, it was the hourly forecast I needed to see. I knew where I was, and needed to know where I was going. I scrolled down and clicked for the results I wanted.

Then everything went black.

It was sudden and not altogether unexpected, but disorienting just the same. Flashes of lightning guided me down the hall to find a flashlight, and back to my room. There at the head of my bed, light ominously flashed from behind my drawn shade, wind breathing out an invitation. Though probably my imagination, the wind seemed to whisper ”Zuuuuuul.” I raised the shade and slid open my screen, instantly soaked in the torrential downpour. My hand reached out into oblivion, and another flash showed the handle of my window just a bit to my right. I began to wonder what possessed me to write what I had already written, to tempt fate as I so often do. I grasped the metal and pulled.

As of yet, I've still not been struck by lightning.

The power returned after a few minutes, and as I type these last few sentences, things have gotten eerily quiet. If the storm should return, and I'm conspicuously absent from posting the next few days, it shouldn't be too hard to figure out what's happened to me.