The Genie By Nilles Sonnemans
The lamp spoke.
Simon jerked back the dusting cloth. He sat down at the tiny desk and considered the white light.
‘Come again?’ he tried.
‘You get three wishes.’
‘Three wishes?’ Simon repeated. ‘Are you joking?’
‘This is the part I hate most – the perpetual repetition and the bafflement of seemingly intelligent people.’
‘You’re a lamp. What do you expect?’
‘How astute.’ If the lamp had had eyes, it would have rolled them.
‘But a desk lamp,’ Simon continued. ‘I mean, you have a swivel and a halogen bulb.’
‘Hey. You drive a car instead of a carpet, but you don’t hear me complain.’
‘One of those old oil lamps, I could have understood that maybe, but—’
‘I get with the times,’ the lamp said shortly. ‘You should try it.’
‘What does that mean?’
The bundle of white light narrowed on the antique in front of Simon. ‘Even topknot wearing hipsters would think your typewriter is affectatious.’
‘I like my typewriter.’ Simon’s face flushed. ‘It inspires me.’ He grabbed his mug with both hands and sipped the hot tea until his glasses steamed up. ‘Would you– I don’t know… would you like tea?’
‘Pour it in the plug socket, will you?’
‘No need to be sour.’
‘Only minutes ago you were rubbing me with a dirty rag.’
‘Cleaning more than rubbing really. You were not in mint condition.’
‘There was a time men and women would kill for me. But you bought me from eBay to save four and a half pounds on the new price at Ikea.’
‘I get it, okay? Sorry. I do appreciate you. This is all amazing. You’re amazing. It’s just— I’m a bit shell shocked. So. Yes. Wishes. I get three wishes.’
‘Right.’
‘Like in Aladdin?’
‘Like in Aladdin. Just don’t expect me to break out in song and dance.’
Simon smiled behind his tea mug. ‘What if that’s my wish?’
The desk lamp’s light briefly dimmed. ‘I’ve had worse wishes.’
‘I suppose… I should really— I wish for world peace.’
‘Always world peace. This is not a beauty pageant, you know? What does it even mean? You want humans to stop fighting. Do you want animals to stop killing each other too? Should I teach tigers how to eat quinoa?’
‘I see why your previous owner put you on eBay.’
‘Give me something within the realm of possibility. A feud with the neighbours maybe, or I can smooth things over with a bully at work.’
‘My dad and brother aren’t speaking. What about that?’
‘You have to wish it.’
‘I wish peace within my family.’
The light flickered as if there was the briefest of power cuts. ‘Done,’ it said. And Simon’s mobile rang.
He pulled it out of his pocket, saw the picture of his older brother, and answered, ‘Hey Tom.’
‘Hey little bro,’ said the voice on the other side. ‘I thought you might want to know Dad and I made up.’
‘Finally!’
‘We’re going kayaking in Finland next week. For bonding, you know?’
‘I’m really pleased for you. So glad you guys made up.’ Simon shot the lamp a smile.
‘You don’t mind looking after the kids whilst I’m away do you?’
The smile faded.
‘I’ll drop them off on Friday,’ his brother continued. ‘They’re only little so they can share the sofa bed in your living room.’
‘I’m really happy for the both of you,’ was all Simon could think to say.
‘Knew I could count on you. See you Friday.’
Simon put his mobile on the desk and looked at the lamp with buyer’s remorse.
‘Hey,’ said the lamp, ‘it was your wish.’
Simon was quiet. He brushed the tips of his fingers over the keys of the antique typewriter and then looked up. ‘I want to be a better writer.’
‘Better how? I can’t turn you into Steinbeck, or Rowling, or EL James. I can’t give you more imagination or a voice—’
‘Can you make me faster, more productive?’
‘You have to wish it.’
‘I wish to be a more productive writer.’
‘Done,’ the lamp stated.
Simon pushed his chair back and glared at the desktop PC that had replaced his antique. ‘I wish I never bought you.’
His fingertips once again rested on the tactile keys of the typewriter. The mobile buzzed loudly on the desk and a message lit up: Bro, Trip’s off. Our dad’s such a bastard.
‘I’ll put myself back on eBay,’ the lamp said. And Simon’s desk went dark.
Judges Comments
A quirky comedy featuring a talking lamp, The Genie, Nilles Sonneman's runner-up story in our 750-word Short Story Competition, gives the traditional folkloric character a sardonic update. From the first line the reader is plunged into a departure from everyday 'reality' and the ensuing story is very funny.
The 750-word limit is an ideal length for this new take on a well-told tale whose tropes are immediately familiar to readers: the lamp, the genie, the three wishes. Nilles' variation on the theme comes from the downbeat setting of families at loggerheads and bargains bought on eBay, and the bantering 21st-century authenticty of the voices of Simon and the lamp as the lamp snipes and snarks at Simon. With the traditional story never far from mind, the contrast between the fairytale fantasy of the original and the grotty scenario Nilles depicts, where the genie turns up in a mass-produced second-hand desk lamp, makes for clever, witty humour.
Of course the genie/lamp outwits Simon – it's in the script – but the ways he does it fit well with Nilles' set-up, with the reader able to interpret the incoming text messages from Simon's brother and Nilles deftly inserting Simon's grouchy line 'I wish I'd never bought you', which prompts the genie's inevitable disappearnace. The whole story is a running gag throughout, and because the short word count is so well-used, there isn't a moment where the joke runs thin.