Fast Fiction Challenge 2006: A Wild Ima-djinn-ation
Title: A Wild Ima-djinn-ation
Word: discontent
Challenger: arcana_j
Length: 200 words exactly It had been dozens of decades since I’d last been summoned, but then, a few months back, she’d found it: the glass bottle with the stopper.
And of course, since it had been filthy, she’d rubbed it with her sleeve.
Damnation!
And once again, as so often before, I had to assuage my new mistress’s discontent.
But this one was clever, oh so clever. She didn’t make a wish at first, but asked me lots of questions as to likely consequences. She even asked what wishes other people had made, and whether they’d been happy with the results. Two thousand years, and no one’d realised that they could ask that.
I’d say Damn her, but that’s already been taken care of.
After I’d answered all her questions, her first wish was simple:
“I wish for everything that will make me happily content.”
And, of course, I had to grant the wish, in the most efficient and speedy manner possible.
Four months later, she’s had no need to use her other wishes, indeed she can’t.
The human doctors call it a “persistent vegetative state”.
Such parochial beings, these humans.
But she’s happy, deep in her mind.
Well, she’s content, at least.
© Lee Barnett, 2007
Word: discontent
Challenger: arcana_j
Length: 200 words exactly It had been dozens of decades since I’d last been summoned, but then, a few months back, she’d found it: the glass bottle with the stopper.
And of course, since it had been filthy, she’d rubbed it with her sleeve.
Damnation!
And once again, as so often before, I had to assuage my new mistress’s discontent.
But this one was clever, oh so clever. She didn’t make a wish at first, but asked me lots of questions as to likely consequences. She even asked what wishes other people had made, and whether they’d been happy with the results. Two thousand years, and no one’d realised that they could ask that.
I’d say Damn her, but that’s already been taken care of.
After I’d answered all her questions, her first wish was simple:
“I wish for everything that will make me happily content.”
And, of course, I had to grant the wish, in the most efficient and speedy manner possible.
Four months later, she’s had no need to use her other wishes, indeed she can’t.
The human doctors call it a “persistent vegetative state”.
Such parochial beings, these humans.
But she’s happy, deep in her mind.
Well, she’s content, at least.
© Lee Barnett, 2007