The swelling has gone down, and the itching has faded. But alas, despite all my wishing and hoping and daydreaming, I must regrettably and dejectedly concede that I have yet to display any superpowers, mutant, radioactive or otherwise, nor has a watcher appeared on my doorstep. No springy, high-flying fun for me. Perhaps I used too much cortisone on the bites. Ah, well, at least I didn't quit my job to freelance as a photographer by day, and patrol cemetaries by night.

But hey, one day, I'll get an opportunity to sail to Valinor, right?