She’d prayed against all hope that the ability would pass her by. Yet, every woman for over twenty generations in her line had been given The Blessing and so she should bear it as the honor it was.
She’d first felt it pulling at her with the same sharp jolt as discharging electrical tinder and she knew the change had taken her. From that day forward, she was and would always be an Unmaker.
Within a week, she nearly went crazy from her total inability to control her power. Dishes continued to dissolve into silica sand, her clothes to tufts of cotton and her poor bicycle was now an untidy pile of assorted elements.
Reaching toward her reflection in the mirror, she wondered how she could appear so normal and yet be such an unmitigated freak. The vines twining from the frame as it reverted to its natural wooded form mocked her as they swayed.