Discharging the Lightning

That brass latch shot lightning into my knuckle, and now the static foam peanuts on my quills were buzzing like angry hornets. A warrior does not let extra electricity sit around without using it. I stomped over to the flat concrete porch railing where a dry brown oak leaf was resting. I extended one spiked glove and brought it down slow toward the crunchy leaf stem. Zzzzt! The leaf jumped three inches right off the stone and stuck straight to my palm! I swung my arm in wide circles. The leaf spun like a propeller, glued by invisible lightning power. Finally, I slammed my fist flat against the rough gray concrete. Pop! The static drained away into the stone, and the leaf floated loose into the breeze. Power discharged. My fists are grounded again.