My brother thinks it's Mom who puts things in my wishing box, but that isn't so. I meant, I used to think so too. I would write my wishes down on a slip of paper, just like she said, and tuck the paper in the box right before I went to sleep. And the next day, or maybe the day after, my wish would come true. I mean, moms do have powers. I know they totally do. But this was different. Because *every* wish came true. Every reasonable one, anyway. Mom explained that I couldn't have a pony because we had no place to keep it, and that's okay. But I mean like finding my dad a job he liked better, and Mom finding enough money under the couch to buy me a new iPod Micro. But still. I thought it was Mom and luck.
Until the night I couldn't sleep. I was tossing and turning, and finally realized I'd forgotten to write something on my wish paper. So I opened the box.
And the bottom was gone.
There was a tunnel instead, long and dark, and a pair of glowy eyes... a a gravely voice that said "We've been helping you all along. Now it's your turn to help *us*."
I slammed the lid right back on. I don't sleep so well these days.
Get your very own wishing box, thanks to PiscoSubito! 4"x4"x21/2", handpainted, probably nothing nasty at the end of that tunnel.
Me: "My skillset is napping."
Emily: "Sooo, you're qualified to be a housecat."
Blogathon 2008. 24 hours of spontaneous fiction for BARCC.