Wanda wakes up.
An alarm doesn't wake her. It was the lamp by her bed. It's on. It's on every morning. Right at seven. It's been happening like that ever since she first got her powers as a little girl. She made the lamp turn on with her mind. It even happened in the mental institution when there were no lamps. Just cold, bright florescent.
Carousels. Picnics. Ice cream. Fireworks.
She shakes her head. What was she just thinking about? Yes, picnics. She hasn't seen her father in a long time and she wants to picnic with him. Maybe he'll drop by and t