Just one wish

Just one wish
by Andi Lutz

I found out I had one wish, just one, not three. And here’s the kicker, I can’t use it on myself. That’s right, I have to use it on someone else. I have to make a wish for someone else. If that’s not a disappointment I don’t know what is. The guy who gave me the wish told me not to waste it. At first I didn’t believe him, but then he told me story after story of people he gave wishes to. He told me he could give me references if I didn’t believe him. He gave me instructions on how to make the wish properly. He sounded like he knew what he was talking about and after all that I believed him. So, now I have this one wish sitting here or wherever it is, maybe floating around in the sky, waiting for me to call upon it.

I’ve been thinking for weeks about how to use it. I’m not just going to waste it like he warned me, I want to make sure I don’t regret what I ask for. And I am always on the lookout for deserving people. Then yesterday I found out I am getting laid off. I don’t have a savings, I have been living paycheck to paycheck. I don’t know what I am going to do except try to find a job quick, which is easier said than done. I wish someone had a wish to make for me. My job ends in a week and I won’t have any money and soon I won’t have a place to live. I have nothing but just one wish and I can keep it forever or make it and have nothing left.

And then it occurred to me, I could make a wish for someone else but help myself. I do need help and I am deserving, after all I have been a loyal employee and I am just getting thrown away like yesterday’s trash.

I walk into my boss’s office and look him in the eyes and run through the wish process in my head really quick.

“Can I help you with something?” he asks.

“Shhh, I’m thinking,” I say, dismissing him, after a few seconds I won’t need him in my life anymore. I’ll be set, I won’t have to worry about anything, and I won’t have a boss for the rest of my life.

“A wish, a wish, this is the wish that I give to you,” I point to him and smile, he looks at me funny. “I wish that you had a million dollars and you gave it all to me.”

“Ha-ha, ok, is that all? I have a meeting in a few minutes that I have to get to,” he laughs and pushes himself out of his seat.

I look around and don’t see piles of money. Maybe it will be transferred to my bank account. How long will that take? Maybe the wish takes 24 hours. “Wait, I have something else to say, I quit this stinking job.”

“Ok, I mean, you are getting laid off and your last day is Friday but if you quit you won’t get your week of severance pay. But the choice is yours, are you sure you want to quit?”

“You can take this job and shove it,” I say and start to walk out but turn around, “and that mill. better be in my account by tomorrow morning!” I strut out of his office and to my car, leaving everything behind. Whatever I left at my desk I can buy, if I even need any of that.

Everything looks better through my eyes now, colors are brighter, the air smells wonderful. I can’t stop smiling. I go to sleep that night imagining what I will buy first with all that dough. The next morning I wake feeling refreshed. I check my bank balance and I can feel my heart pounding harder and harder as I search for the million. Where is it? There are no pending transactions, where could it be? Maybe my boss forgot.

Nothing is more important than getting that money, so I go straight to my car and drive to my old company and wait in the parking lot for my boss to show up. The time ticks by slowly and I wonder if he is even coming. Maybe he took my money and left town. I see his car pull up into his reserved parking space. I jump out of my car and approach him. He is startled by my anger and appearance, still in my pajamas. “Where’s my money?” I yell, almost grabbing him by the collar. His eyes bulge and his nostrils flare, then a funny look comes over his face as if he is in a trance.

“You are selfish, you will never get a wish until you realize the importance of giving.”

“But I am in need, I am in need,” I repeat over and over. That wish didn’t get granted so long ago because someone thought I wasn’t worthy. Who do they think they are? The granter of wishes? They know nothing, I am in more need now than I have ever been. I hold my hand out to everyone passing by, begging for anything they are willing to give. They go out of their way to walk far around me and away from my brown hands and dirty, torn clothing. “I was supposed to have a million dollars!” I shout. Some teenagers laugh and throw pennies at me as they go by. “Where’s my money?” I sit down on the ground and wonder when I will get what I deserve.

Short Stories

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