by Tayler Kastros
“I found a genie in a bottle of Glenlivet 12 year” placed first in Southern New Hampshire University’s 2023 Fall Fiction Contest.
- She told me my credit score only pre-qualified me for a wish and a half.
- “Why are wishes dependent on my credit score?”
- “What isn’t dependent on your credit score?”
- I was sweating in the cold.
- She pulled a cigarette up to her lips, her free hand at its tip.
- She snapped her fingers and was lit.
- “How do I make half-a-wish?”
- The embers of her cigarette lit up the small space between us in the liquor store parking lot.
- “You ask for something you sort of want.”
- She was nonchalant, blowing smoke in my face.
- “You get one-and-a-half wishes. That’s all.”
- I eyed her and my bottle of scotch at her feet.
- She was standing firm-footed, staring back at me.
- With a shiver, she zipped her jacket up to her chin and clapped both hands.
- “Well, I can’t wait all night.”
- I stood there, trying to think of something I only partially wanted.
- “I want a—a dog.”
- I could be happy with a dog, though I’d never considered owning one.
- I wasn’t confident I could keep a pet alive for more than a few months.
- And, it’d likely piss everywhere.
- She took a drink, then handed the bottle to me.
- I drank quickly.
- She flung her cigarette to the ground and stamped it with her boot.
- “Done.”
- She pointed to my left with one, confident finger.
- I turned to see a dog rummaging through a trash bin two alleys over.
- “You didn’t do that! He was already there.”
- I shook the bottle in her face, scotch flying.
- “Prove it!”
- The dog’s head was still buried in the trash, paying us no mind.
- “Call him.” She snatched the bottle from my hands.
- “I don’t know his name.”
- “It’s whatever you want it to be.” She took a drink.
- I looked at the dog, thinking hard.
- “Scotch!” I hollered.
- The genie giggled.
- The dog jolted, his head knocking into the side of the bin.
- He turned to face us, a half-eaten Taco Bell chalupa, wrapper and all, wedged sideways in his mouth.
- Ears upright and at attention, he watched us.
- Then, as if he was recognizing old friends, his stance loosened.
- He trotted toward me, tail wagging.
- “Well, fuck me.” The dog found a comfortable spot at my feet.
- I knelt to pet him, the burrito still between his teeth.
- His hair was matted, and he smelled of mildew and refried beans.
- He panted heavily and happily, hot breath blowing in my face and drool pooling between us.
- I stood up and reached for the pack of cigarettes in my shirt pocket.
- The box was empty.
- “Fuck. I need another cigarette.”
- “Here.” The genie tapped my shoulder, a cigarette in her extended hand.
- I took it carefully, afraid of what might happen if my fingers touched hers.
- She sniffled just slightly and wiped her red nose with her jacket sleeve.
- “That doesn’t count as a wish, does it?”
- Genies could be tricky.
- “It could, but I won’t count it.”
- I sighed in relief.
- I turned back to the dog at my feet, but he was already gone.
- He was shuffling back toward the alley.
- “He’s leaving! Scotch, come back!”
- Unfazed, the dog kept moving, turning the corner and out of sight.
- The genie shrugged and placed the bottle in my hand.
- “Next wish.”
- I took a drink and stared at my feet.
- I thought about Jessica, who worked three desks down from me.
- I knew her every detail.
- I pictured her at her desk, typing unabashedly as her acrylic nails collided with the keys.
- She always had a spoon ring on her left thumb and crescent moon-shaped earrings in her ears.
- She preferred two-and-a-half creamers in her coffee.
- She took a smoke break at 10:15, then another at 1:30.
- She smoked Marlboro Reds.
- I did, too.
- I waited for the day when she’d run out and ask me for one.
- Me, the man who left his pack of Marlboros on the corner of his desk, hoping she’d notice.
- We smoke the same cigarettes, please talk to me.
- I wanted to love her, more than anything.
- “I want to fall in love.”
- I sat on the pavement.
- I let both hands hang between my knees, eyes on the ground.
- I hoped that the genie couldn’t feel the lonely rolling off of my shoulders like heat from an old radiator.
- The genie sat, too.
- She placed her hand on my arm.
- She squeezed my arm so slightly I wasn’t sure she’d done it at all.
- Her hands looked like Jessica’s—slender, with freckles, but no rings or polish.
- Clean, untouched hands.
- Before I could specify who I wanted to fall in love with, the genie tucked her hand under my chin and mash her lips into mine.
- Our teeth clashed, mouths moving against each other in a way that was abrupt and unfamiliar.
- I couldn’t tell if it was my mouth or hers that tasted like scotch.
- Then, it was over.
- She looked at me, purple lipstick smeared across her check, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
- She licked her thumb and began wiping the lipstick from around my lips, her thumb scraping along three-day stubble.
- “But—I don’t know you.” The words stumbled out.
- “But, I know you.”
- I believed her.
Category: Competition, Featured, Short Story