Story a day: 8.4.16

She climbed the crags beside the ocean. When she scrambled into the cave, her hands were pink, scraped raw by the rock. The thunder of the waves below hushed when she strode into the darkness.

The genie waited down a winding, echoing path slick with spray.

“What do you wish?” it asked her.

She requested tremendous power, unassailable power that would leave her comfortable, wealthy and respected for the rest of her life.

“What will you give?” the genie asked.

She struggled to suppress a smirk, then tapped her ear.

The genie understood and nodded. Like a tide going out, sound washed away, taking the echo of the cave, the drumming of the ocean, the whisper of her own breaths. The genie did more than merely take her hearing; it left her completely detached from sound, taking away outside stimulation and insulating her from even the ghosts of noise.

She bowed to the genie and left.


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