by Sue Johnson

Neil was wrong – genies do exist.

It all happened on that day I’d got lost in the spice-scented Moroccan bazaar. A silver lamp attracted me and as I gazed at its misty green glass, I imagined what he would’ve said.

‘Rub that hoping a genie will appear and it’ll fall to bits, Cathy. Not that they exist anyway.’

Since he left me for another woman I didn’t have to worry what he thought.

‘This lamp special. You buy,’ said the stallholder.

I didn’t realise how special until I’d returned to the maze of alleyways.

‘I wish I was back at the hotel, and I wish I had a cold drink,’ I said. I hadn’t realised I was touching the lamp. Suddenly I was surrounded by swirling grey almond-scented smoke and when it cleared I was sitting on my sea-view balcony with a gin and tonic at my elbow.

‘You have one more wish,’ said a voice as smooth as melted chocolate.

His dark eyes caressed my ample curves and I felt a thrill of excitement that had been missing from my life for a long time. He was so gorgeous he could even get away with wearing a cushion-like hat with a tassel and red silk shoes that curled up at the toes.

‘Your wish is my command,’ he said.

Neil had only ever thought of himself.

‘Take me to live with you.’

‘Wish granted,’ he said taking me in his arms as the smoke surrounded us.

If only Neil could see me now.

Sue Johnson is a poet, short story writer and novelist. Many of her ideas are inspired by the Worcestershire countryside near her home and conversations overheard in local cafes. Sue runs her own brand of writing workshops and is a Writing Magazine Home Study Tutor. Follow her on Twitter @SueJohnson9.
Further details of Sue’s work can be found at