I live next to a power station. At least, a large enclosure of menacing metallic structures surrounded by a huge cinder block wall. The kind that kids are always dying in when they enter after their mis-kicked soccer ball. Lying in bed tonight, trying to sleep, I saw my window flash white as if a bolt of lightning had hit close by. I waited. No thunder. Then again. And then continuously at regular intervals.

Curious, I got up, peered out my window. There–reflected on the all glass side of the twelve story building beyond the station and across the street, right at the top–a flare of brilliant light, reflected, as of lighting hidden behind a cloud. But from where the reflection? No thunder, and the intervals were too regular, every 20 seconds. Must be the power station. But no light comes from the station itself, the vertical, regular seams in the walls don’t light up. But if it is the power station, is it safe for it to be discharging electricity like that? 
It’s stopped now. I’m still alive. So I guess I’ll go back to bed and continue to ponder the inponderables. 
Or is that imponderables? I’ll ponder onnit.