Architect David Senenmut struck the lighter. The first time it gave out a lovely, bluish flame. Then David Senenmut lit the glass snail. Light flowed over the table and illuminated the whole room. It was pure gold everywhere, even in their mouths. You could see it every time they spoke.

“Strike it once again,” she said. “You have to do it three times!”

The lighter behaved well the second time. But not the third. Nothing happened.

“It’s no use!” said architect Senenmut to Miss Hatshepsut. “It’s not going to grant my wish.”

“Oh, yes it is, believe me,” she said and kissed her architect David Senenmut as no one had ever kissed him before.

Beneath that long kiss, lying on the floor in the shadow of the table, were the discarded instructions on how to work the lighter:

WARNING! DANGER! Keep away from fire.
This is not a lighter. It is a special weapon.
It is filled with dynamite and will explode
after it is struck for the third consecutive time.