When I was a young child, we didn’t really have much choice of TV channels so all you could watch was what was offered. No smartphones either, so you had to make do. There was this period where they were showing nothing but fluff about the Royal family, and that pissed me off as a bored kid.
So I did something that I’d never done before: I got down on my knees, clasped my hands together and prayed for a certain member of that family to die. One week later they did. The guilt stayed with me for a while, but eventually I got over it convinced that it was mere chance.
Then a few years later, at college, desperate to pass an exam I had no chance of passing, I did the same thing, and passed it with flying colours.
I don’t really know what to do with this power, but I know that I should use it sparingly.