The Wishes (: formerly published)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic
To help a demon - or the nephew of a demon - may give some options of a special kind ...

Submitted: November 11, 2009

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Submitted: November 11, 2009

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It dawned upon me that my choice wasn't the best one. No, I shouldn't have asked for "never dying" when that genie told me I had some wishes coming my way for helping his nephew out from that old flask. Hmm - no, I should have asked for something else, like e.g. "never aging and never getting poor". I even had three wishes, but somehow I couldn't remember the other two ones.
However, this life-promise simply begged another wish, but how would I get a No. four wish? Impossible, it seemed, also because no matter what, the genie had gone, he went to see another one of his nephews, this one having fun as a mass murderer in some far off country. (Yeah, genies are like that, they do exactly what they want themselves, also they are sloppy and don't always get the wishes right).

The sad thing is that right now, I see someone in my mirrors who doesn't resemble me - who simply can't be me - only she is dressed like me and when I stick out my tongue at her she does the same at me. Horror! This creature in the mirror has spots all over, her hair is almost gone, well, at least that on her head. On her chin it's very profuse and if she doesn't start doing something to get rid of it she shall end up looking like a goat or some old gent from the 19th century. At that time all of them grew beards, I know because I was there and watched them, but alas, they didn't notice me sitting there, decrepit, destitute and desperate. Bad "Ds", bad situation, but better now as I came into money because I let the money come to me.
Yes, even though I at that time was 208 years old I still knew how to find ways of finding money. All it took was some green stuff into the cups of some lucky people who hadn't met the genie: They knew the art of dying and die they did ...

I often fingered the flask that had held the nephew of the genie. When I did, I felt its narrow confine as a solace. Just imagine the safety of sitting in it. Nothing could come out, that's true, but then neither could anything get in. Yes, one would be safe in such a small confine.
One day I pulled the cork and took it to my nose to smell the perfume it had held long ago. When I did, the room started to vibrate, the light flickered and there he was, that good, old genie! "Oho," he said smiling benevolently at me. "Looking fine, eh'?"
"You or me?" I asked sourly.
"You, Madam, you," he bristled.
"I have mirrors and I wish I didn't," I said.
"So you don't like your looks as they have developed?"
"Certainly not!"
He laughed and then said teasingly: "So what's your wish now? To regain your wonderful looks?"
"I had my wish," I said, "although I know there was more ..."
"Yes, your second wish was "Give me a beautiful dress for the ball" - and I did - you were very satisfied. As to your third wish it was quite strange because what you said was: "Up yours!""
"What!" I exclaimed in horror at the by now somewhat bashful looking genie. "What did you just say?"
"Not my fault, you did, and as you can see, I sort of ignored it so it's still hanging there. Of course I shall fulfill your wishes, I always do when someone helps one of my nephews, but ..."
"No, no, no," I said, "Don't overexert yourself, I asked for too much. I withdraw that wish right now."
"Hmmm," he said, "It would be nice for me, but you see, that's not the way it's working. The system is built on trust and sooner or later I have to fulfill the three wishes of the clients. I don't like this one more bit that yourself, but a promise is a promise, so ... "Up yours" it is ..."
Utterly horrified I considered my situation: I could never die, i.e. never get release, and I was heading "Up yours" inside a deranged genie with several evil and murderous nephews, bringing him on travels all over the planet. "No-no," I stuttered, "I free you of your obligation. I do it freely and with all my heart."
"Mmmm," he said and this statement or whatever it was turned into a singing or humming sound as I felt myself being lifted by unseen powers and shot forward towards him, at the same time being shrivelled and shrunk into the same size as the cork I had fingered. I know I screamt when I plunged inside a very deep and dark place that didn't smell of roses, but I'm sure nobody heard me ...

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