A green haze drifted up from the murky bottom of the ocean, carrying the scent of inadequacy.
“One wish,” the voice croaked out.
“But I rubbed the lamp! I should get three!” The eel stroked the brass with her decimated forehead.
“You have scared too many children.” The voice shook with fury. “And so have I. The rules were bent for those such as us.”
The eel slithered to the bottom, sending up a cloud of silt.
“Make your wish,” the voice bellowed with as much power as a waft of smoke could produce. “Choose wisely, oh shamed one, for a well-spoken wish could change…” The lamp rattled and the eel thought she could hear a parrot squawk.
“QUIET, YOU!”
The eel shrank away.
“MAKE YOUR WISH, YOU SLIMY PEON!”
The eel took a deep breath. “I just want to go back to before.” She sighed. “But with a better voice.”
“Very well.”
“Night fell, but at the bottom of the ocean, who could really tell?”
