It is the final scene. The stage is set, the dark forest and pulsing music poised to begin as the main characters prepare for their final dance. The male protagonist steps forth, knowing that he is about to die. The dark waltz begins and…
My keyboard croaks instead. It will not pair with anything and this submission is due in just a few short weeks. I fling the useless piece of plastic onto a shelf and stomp off, the dramatic end scene fizzling unwritten in my brain. (Of course, I could have hand written it for the time being, but that’s another story.)
A few hours and several distractions later, I remember reading somewhere that Archangel Michael will often fix broken electronics, if you have the presence of mind (and perhaps the touch of desperation) to ask. Still irked, I promptly said aloud, “Ok Mike, if you want me to keep writing, I need this keyboard fixed by tomorrow,” I then promptly forgot about the whole thing, leaving one slightly bemused cat in an otherwise empty room.
Whether I was visited by Divine Tech Support is still up for debate. Maybe I flubbed something up to begin with on my end, but there is one thing I’m sure of.
The keyboard worked beautifully by morning.