Postcard-sized flash fiction about the things we think we know about others, life, death, and everything in between. And it all starts with an image...

Wishmaker

I sucked out the last of the slush from the bottom of my Freezie as I faced the genie. I couldn’t find his lamp, so I rubbed the gritty block wall just over his eyes—rubbing until my hands turned raw. I didn’t trust him, not

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