the genie’s wish

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It’s a cool, breezy Saturday. A day for the mind to wander a little bit. Random rather than particular ways.

I got to thinking about genies. You know the kind who live in those persian lamps or in bottle’s of 1960s astronauts. That’s a pretty rotten deal they have when you think about it. They have their little space into which they shrink and retreat to on occasion, are on the beck and call of whoever owns the lamp, and expected to respond with some measure of authority when called forth, pleased to serve, eager to help, happy to oblige. I would guess they get used to it after a while.

In our selfish consideration we think about how great it would be to own a genie lamp, so we could get our wishes, vanquish our enemies, get a new car, and fancy clothes. Today, though, I got to thinking about that genie.

Who answers when he calls? I would bet that sort of thing gets discouraging. Having to be there for the call, but never able to make a call himself. Giving a wish, but never getting one.

A curious life really. I think if I ever find a lamp I’d first off ask what the genie wants. It’d be the least I could do.

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