08.09.2022 05:59:36
Blecky89

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So far, so good! :) Fashion Police finally can really enjoy their forum reading! :D 

11.09.2022 10:01:49
Akahana

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Celeste and Nava: Pilot

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

The alarm buzzed throughout the small room. A hand, white as porcelain, reached out and shut the alarm silent. A giant mop of black hair rose from the thin covers of the bed.

“Ugh,” the bush of hair moaned, “Five hours of sleep?!”

A pair of slim legs dangled from the edge of the bed and landed on the floor. The figure walked to the mirror and pulled the tangles of hair away revealing the face of a young girl with lifeless dark brown eyes, a small mole under her left eye, and a frown wishing for more sleep. She walked out of her room and entered the tiny kitchen of the apartment.

Hmm, the girl thought, opening the refrigerator, Work doesn’t start until another three hours, but I need the extra time to get ready and head to the subway on time! We still have enough bagels…

She pulled out a half-empty bag of bagels and a tub of cream cheese before shutting the refrigerator. As she sets the ingredients on the counter, another girl enters the kitchen. This girl has wavy dark brown hair that reaches slightly past her shoulders, peach skin, and a similar shade of dark brown eyes. But these eyes shine more life.

“Nava,” the girl with long black hair said, “you’re already up?”

“Your alarm woke me up,” Nava replied, yawning, “These walls are thinner than my bedsheets. What’re you making, Celeste?”

“The usual,” she replied, “Want one?”

“Yeah, yeah. You gonna make some coffee?”

“We ran out. I’ll try to get some more after my shift.”

“Nah, I’ll get some. I don’t have any classes today, so I’ll get some once the grocery store opens.”

“Cool. Wanna watch the news?”

“Sure.”

Nava walked over to the small couch and turned on the cheap television. She flipped through the channels until a news station popped up. Meanwhile, Celeste pulled out two pre-sliced bagels and crammed the four pieces into the toaster oven. She then sat on the couch with Nava.

“You gonna cut your hair?” asked Nava

“Ha, no,” Celeste responded, “Graduating college soon?”

“Shut up. I’m finally passing all of my classes this semester. If I’m able to take courses during the summer, it should take two years to complete my degree. Hopefully I’ll have enough money to pay my tuition.”

“You better not ask me for some this time. I have to work an extra hour now due to the rent increasing.”

“It’ll be fine. The music I release online is finally generating a decent amount of revenue and I’ve made a couple sales off of my merch store.”

The toaster dinged in completion. The two headed to the kitchen and began pulling the slices out. After slathering the slices with cream cheese, they returned to the couch. The news displayed the typical stories they’ve seen. A robbery in some building, missing pets, abnormal detentions, prices on everything increasing. Celeste finishes her bagel first.

“Gonna go get ready. The grocery store might be opening once I’m ready.”

“Don’t worry,” Nava said, “We both know that I get ready faster.”

Celeste rolled her eyes as she entered her bedroom. Despite its small size, it fits a lot. Her mirror opens up to her closet, which doesn’t fit many clothes; her uniforms, pajamas, and about five extra outfits fit inside. A box full of degrees, certificates, and the like also fit inside her closet. Her nightstand may be a bit too close to her closet, but there is enough space to fit a floor lamp between it. The bed next to her nightstand is full size, decorated with plain black sheets and lacy pillows, but it is too close to her simple white desk. The desk is accessorized with her laptop, old notebooks, black cups filled with writing utensils and other supplies, small, cute figurines she has collected over the years, and a black desk chair that hits her bed too often. Celeste knows that her room is significantly smaller than Nava’s. Nava’s room has a similar closet, bed size, and desk size. Her bed and desk have more punk-like elements decorating it. But also inside her room is a guitar, bass, microphone, and drum set tucked inside a make-shift, soundproof shed that is larger than her closet. Celeste pulled out her work uniform, a poofy black dress with white details accompanied with a white ruffled apron and red tie, some white stockings with ruffles and black details, and her favorite shoes, high-heeled wedge boots with silver spikes covering the heel portion. She remembered that Nava gave these shoes as a gift to forgive her for not being able to pay her half of the rent. After putting on everything except her shoes, Celeste headed to her vanity placed adjacent to her desk.

She styled her hair into two straight twin tails with a ruffled headband on her head and gave her face more life using makeup. Celeste then put on her shoes and walked out of the room. Nava is on the couch wearing a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to her elbows and the bottom tied up to show off her midriff, a black choker, a short, pleated, red tartan skirt, black and white striped arm warmers, stockings that match her arm warmers, and two red flowers on her pigtails and tying her black shoes.

“Got everything?” Nava asked.

“Yep,” Celeste responded, “You don’t look ready.”

“I was putting on deodorant!” Nava finishes up tying her shoes and leaves the apartment with Celeste. The two walk out of the complex and down the street.

“Do we need anything else from the grocery store?” Nava asked.

“More bagels,” Celeste responded, “More sugar, more oranges, and more air freshener.”

“Got it. Got it,” Nava tapped on her phone, “Hopefully I can pay for everything.”

“I’ll get the stuff you can’t afford after my shift.”

The two step down the stairs into the dimly lit subway station. The place looks unclean with dirt and dust filling every corner, graffiti plastered on the walls, and the smell of dried up urine filling the air. The only parts that look clean are the benches inhabited by homeless people, the booths and kiosks selling tickets, and the maintained train screeching its stop. The girls wait for the pouring passengers to leave before hopping into the train.

“See any seats?” Celeste asked.

“There’s a few over there!” Nava pointed to empty seats near the door.

They head over and sit at the seats. The train is slightly packed; a large number of the seats are occupied and several people are standing as the doors close and the train begins to move. After two stops, Celeste gets up from her seat.

“This is where I get off. See ya later!”

“Bye!”

Celeste steps out of the train and leaves the subway station. After walking for some time, a quaint maid cafe appears in the distance. The cafe’s clean, pale yellow walls, white door and frames, pale blue and white striped awning, and pink begonias hanging on the air and stationed near the door makes it stand out from the muted, dark colors of the buildings surrounding it. Celeste enters an alleyway next to the cafe and into the busted door attached to it. The hallway is light and inviting with the pastel decorations complimenting the pristine white walls. She enters the room with “EMPLOYEES ONLY” labeled on the door. After clocking in and leaving her belongings in the locker with her name labeled on it, Celeste enters the decorated kitchen. A brown haired girl is turning on the stove.

“Yanagi,” Celeste addressed to the girl, “Are we open yet?”

“Yeah,” she responded, “I’m the only one doing the cooking right now. Uno and Bee are taking orders. Can you help them out?”

“Totally.”

༶•┈┈✧༺♥༻∞┈♛˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Nava stepped off the train and left the subway after some stops. A sterile building painted white and green is nearby. The girl enters the building and picks up a green shopping basket next to the entrance.

I'll find the coffee first, Nava thought, turning on her phone.

She walks past several aisles until she finds the one that includes coffee.

Too much…too much…too much, Nava thought, perusing through the different brands, terrible taste, zero taste, made through the worst conditions, child labor was involved…hmm… Medium roast and made locally. This should work.

Nava drops the pack of coffee mix into the basket and leaves the aisle.

Now where are the bagels?

■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■・❥・

“Have a great meal, master!” Celeste placed a plate with a sandwich on the customer’s table.

“Thank you, sweetheart!” the customer responded, “But I’m not sure if I can finish this on my own! Do you think you can help me a little?”

“Uh, no thank you,” she responded. Celeste considered the customer to be creepy. A man that is ten years older than her, the tone of his voice making him sound like his sinuses are infected, his eyes narrowing and grin widening don’t help.

“There’s not a lot of customers right now. Can you at least give me some company?”

“I’m not interested in you, you are gross and creepy, and I need my paycheck.”

Celeste leaves the man alone and enters the kitchen. A pale haired co worker approaches her.

“That was bold of you,” she told her, “But I feel like that would drive customers away.”

“We don’t need creeps in this building,” Celeste responded, “They’re better gone.”

“You’re right, but what if the customer stares at you for the entire stay?”

“It’s best to ignore him, Meilyn. This type of person needs to know that this is a cafe, not a dating ring.”

“I would walk away as soon as he says ‘thank you.’ If you’re fast enough.”

Meilyn lifts two trays of food and leaves the kitchen. Yanagi pushes a tray of food towards Celeste.

“This is for Petunia Table,” she told her, “And it’s a gay couple, so don’t worry!”

༶•┈┈✧༺♥༻∞┈♛˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

“How was everything?” the cashier asked Nava, scanning the items, “Did you find it easy?”

“Yeah,” Nava responded, “it was fine.”

“Do you go to that high school on 8th Street? Aren’t you supposed to be there?”

“I go to Central University of the Arts.”

“Oh! Sorry! I thought you were in high school because of your outfit! Anyways, your total is $48.29!”

Nava inserts her debit card into the reader and adds her signature.

“Your card was approved!” the cashier chipped, “Here’s your bag! Have a great day!”

“Thank you,” Nava takes the bag of groceries from the cashier, “And you too!”

She exits the grocery store and starts walking down the subway.

Once I’m back, she thought, and put away everything, I’ll work on that guitar assignment, then record for my singing project. And if I have time, I can play video games! Or do some drawing!

The train pulls up to the station.

■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■・❥・

Celeste wipes an empty table clean as a group of college students enter the cafe.

“Welcome!” she greets, “How many are in your group?”

“Four,” a tall, black haired man responded, “And have I seen you before?”

“The table with the marigolds over there is empty! My friend attends the same college as you guys. I also went there before working here.”

“Does she have pigtails like you?” the black haired man sat at the table with the group, “Except a lot shorter?”

“Yeah, here are the menus. She also has those red flowers on her head.”

“I think we take the same guitar class…Was it Nova? No. It’s like that, right? Can we order the drinks?”

“Sure, tell me what you like!”

The group gives their orders.

“Okay…I’ll fix them right away!”

Celeste dashes into the kitchen and pulls out four cups in a cabinet.

“That black haired guy in the red jacket is really figuring out who you are,” Meilyn told her.

“One of his friends was wearing the CUArts sweater,” she responded, filling one of the cups with water, “so at least there’s some familiarity.”

“Should you tell him your friend’s name?”

“He said that he might share the same class as Nava. He can just ask her when they meet again.”

Celeste places the filled cups on a tray and leaves the kitchen with it.

“I have two waters,” she said, coming up to the group, “blue lemonade, and a grape soda.”

“I think that Nova girl told me your name,” the black haired man said, “Celestia?”

“Celeste. And it’s Nava, not Nova.”

“Oh, that makes more sense! I believe we also have the same songwriting class.”

“Cool. Are you ready to order?”

“I believe so.”

“What would you like?”

༶•┈┈✧༺♥༻∞┈♛˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

A g-chord from the guitar fills the soundproof shed.

“Perfect,” Nava said to herself.

Nava turned off her microphone and left the shed. She sat on her desk and clicked several times on her laptop.

Check the file for any corruptions, she thought, listening to different guitar chords, Perfect. Gotta log in… The assignment is accessible… Uploading… Perfect! Video game time! Huh. Why is my phone beeping?

Nava picked up her phone and tapped onto Doscirt app.

Coming from the guitar class server. Guess I’ll read the whack conversation.

Squashmysquish: yo nava, i met ur friend at that maid cafe!

Heroofguitars: wait, she has a friend?

Squashmysquish: ya. celleste. nava u there?

Heroofguitars: shes online

Oh great, she thought, I have to respond.

Happyyellowgambler: So you went to that cafe. You like it there?

Squashmysquish: ya! celeste was cool. is she single?

Happyyellowgambler: She’s not interested in any relationship.

Squashmysquish: damn. u free right now?

Happyyellowgambler: I want to play video games.

Squashmysquish: did ya even have lunch?

Happyyellowgambler: I’m having one right now.

Heroofguitars: stop trying to hit on her, gene

Squashmysquish: im not!

Happyyellowgambler: Can we talk later? I want to play Last Fate VII now.

Sqaushmysquish: fine. Will u be done at 3?

Happyyellowgambler: Sure. See ya.

Nava turned off her phone and plugged its charger in it. She left her bedroom and entered the space deemed the living room. She turned on the television and one of the game consoles. She flopped onto the couch and picked up the remote.

Her mind drifted to the conversation she just had. She had met the black haired man with tan skin and a tall, slim figure about a year ago in a class to remedy bad grades. He apparently was trying to earn one or two degrees that are the same as hers. Nobody else in the class was working towards a similar degree, so the two of them were naturally inclined to work with each other. Near the end of the semester, Gene tried to ask her out on a date, but she wanted to focus on her studies. Nava didn’t want to talk to him after the semester, but he was persistent in at least being friends with her. She didn’t exactly like him because his playful teasing devolved into mean comments way too fast and he pestered her once every three seconds. Gene also attempted to ask out every single girl he liked even if she isn’t straight, which got obnoxious right away. He didn’t look awful, his undesirable traits had a tendency to be the center of attention. But since they’re working towards the same degree, Nava and Gene see each other often in classes.

Gene, she thought to herself, what is wrong with you?

■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■・❥・

“Thank you for coming!” Celeste chirped, “Please come again!”

“Totally,” the black haired man responded, “Oh, and when you see Nava, can you tell her that Gene said ‘hi?’”

“Sure.”

The group left the cafe. Celeste enters the kitchen.

“That guy was so talkative,” Yanagi told her, “And only to you.”

“He knew Nava,” she responded, “and was probably excited to meet one of her friends.”

“I guess. Your shift is ending soon. You should go and pack your things.”

“And no one will enter while I leave?”

“The rest of us will handle the customers. Just hurry along!”

Celeste left the kitchen and entered the room for employees. She gathered her belongings in her locker and clocked out. After leaving the cafe, she headed to the subway.

We have the entire evening free! she thought, Where should we have dinner? I hope Nava will choose anything besides that casino… Grossest food ever!

The train pulls up to the station.

༶•┈┈✧༺♥༻∞┈♛˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Nava taps onto her phone before returning her attention to saving her progress in the game. Celeste walks into the apartment.

“Back already?” Nava asked.

“Yeah,” Celeste responded, “Want to eat Vietnamese down the street?”

“Sure. That means we can go to the casino early!”

“Yay. Oh, and Gene says hi.”

“You actually met Gene?”

“He visited the cafe with his friends. How does he know me?”

“I always talk about the insane crap we do together. Who else knocks out a bodybuilder with a plastic stool?”

“So the two of you are friends at college?”

“Ha, no. He just thinks I’m attractive and wants to get closer to me.”

“Eh, you know boys. Got all the groceries?”

“Yep. Got the medium roast if that’s fine.”

“Perfect. Ready to leave?”

“You betcha.”

■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■・❥・

“I’ll stand,” Nava told the dealer.

“You sure?” Celeste asked, nibbling on her spring roll.

“It’s my choice.”

The dealer scores a 21 and takes the chips Nava betted on.

“Damnit,” Nava muttered, getting off her seat and shaking the dealer’s hand.

“How are we going to pay rent?” Celeste asked as they wandered the massive casino hall.

“I only bet half of my chips. If I go all in for one poker game, and make the right choices, I’ll win everything back!”

“Why do I even accompany you?”

The two find an empty space in one of the crowded poker tables.

“Welcome,” a woman addressed, “Is only one of you participating?”

“I’m participating,” Nava replied, “And I’m betting the rest of my chips.”

“Oh, okay. Take a seat.”

Nava sits down and dumps all of the colorful chips onto the table. Celeste examines the players participating. All of them are a lot older than the two of them. Most of them were either men accompanied by their lady partners or the same but the genders were reversed. They’re also wearing high-class fashion and are giving weird looks at the punkish college student betting her tuition and the stoic maid that is somehow her friend and not a servant.

Why does Nava like gambling? Celeste thought.

Nava continuously made calls and raises throughout the game, making the bidding a lot higher than even Celeste’s salary. The amount being bidded on made Celeste focus less on the game and drift into her own thoughts.

What are we supposed to do if we lose? Hopefully Yanagi can provide us a place to stay if that happens. I also might have to force Nava to take a part time job to earn a reliable income. I guess that means I have to work weekends. But Nava did win $500,000 here. Before blowing most of it thinking that she can win more. What even made her addicted to gambling? Is this why her parents disowned her? Yeah, she won about twenty times, but after losing forty times! God, the only way Nava can win this with this amount of money is if she can get a royal flush. But what are the–

“ROYAL FLUSH, BABY!” Nava hollered.

“You won!?” Celeste asked, snapping back to reality.

“Yeah! And it’s a million dollars!”

“Collect the chips and go exchange them. After that, we’re leaving. We’re not risking all of that for a higher price!”

“Give me all of that, and I’ll see you all next week?”

Celeste had to help Nava carry the chips across the building to exchange them.

“How did you do that?” Celeste asked.

“Making the scared opponents fold helps,” Nava answered, “Why don’t we spend all of this to live in a better apartment?”

“No. You know how behind we are on rent?”

■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■・❥・༶•┈┈✧༺♥༻∞┈♛˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Addendum

Celeste is supposed to be my Popculture outfit

Nava is supposed to be my Casual, Daytime outfit

Celeste and Nava are 21 years old, the rest of the characters are either the same age or older than them

Celeste and Nava live in an American urban city like New York City, Chicago, or Los Angeles

11.09.2022 23:22:42
BarbieBudussy

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Nothing can stop time

The air is so dusty, it's just hard to breathe in, but I have to manage. I slowly walked to my destination, not stopping for any breaks. It was long and tiring, but I have to continue on if I want to live. I kept on walking until the hazy skies turned to night. As much as I wanted to keep going, I needed to rest.

I looked around for an inconspicuous space and decided to settle in the alleyway between two large dull brick buildings. It smelled putrid, but I've long gotten used to smells like this. I took out my tent and started to open it up. Tents aren't very useful; they definitely can't protect me, but I feel a sense of security having something wrapped up around me, like a blanket. The tent was something I picked up while travelling earlier. It was worn out, the light, dull orange color slowly fading, with a couple of stretched holes near the bottom. I also grabbed some dirt, newspapers, and whatnot to place on top of my tent. It didn't make sense to do so at first, but I quickly learned about their sense of sight. I was told everything was a blur to them, but they can identify other colors that looks out of place. They attack anything that seems different from its surroundings. Considering how my tent looks way off from everything else, it's best to cover it with anything I can find. Otherwise, I would not have a peaceful night. At all.

Once I had set up my tent, I rummaged in my backpack to see what I could eat. I only had some granola bars, a rotting apple, and a bottle half-filled with dirty water left. I took the repulsive apple. It looks nauseating, but it's best to eat it lest it goes to waste. I walked to the end of the sidewalk and plopped down. I peeled some of the skin away from the sad apple with my nails to save for later. I'll want something to suck and chew on tomorrow while walking. Then I took a bite. My stomach churned, wanting to throw out its contents, but I held on.

After I finished my meal, I took a quick look at my surroundings. It was the same old trees, the same old sidewalks, same old buildings, same old vehicles, but it was different. There was no noise. I should have gotten used to it by now, but I'm not. It's too quiet, too eerie. It's good if there's silence since it means I'm far away from danger, but it’s still unsettling. There's no use worrying about it now. I looked up at the moon. Now that's something that has changed. It's a soft blue, both dull and bright at the same time. Chunks of it seem to have fallen off, and now it just looks sad. I wonder how that even happened in the first place. It might have to do with those freaks.

I quietly walked back to my tent, getting ready to go to sleep.

Thump. Thump. Patss.

Footsteps. 

I quickly entered my tent and zipped it up all the way. Those aren't the footsteps of a human, no, it's the sound of them. And it was coming towards my direction. To survive, I had learned to differentiate between the sounds of footsteps, the sounds of humans and those fuckers. They seemed to have adapted quite a bit and learned to mock the noises we make, but there's always something off. Whether it's the scratchy shrill of their voices or the heavy patss that comes afterwards, there's always something.

I strained my ears, trying to hear how many of them there were. One. No two. Wait, there's three. I can barely escape from one, much less three. Now, I have to depend on my luck. I laid in a comfortable position, placed my bag away from me, and took deep breaths. As soon as they walked closer, I held my breath. I cannot make a noise if I want to live.

They're vile and cruel creatures with a deep thirst for blood that cannot be quenched. It's nearly impossible to escape from them. I remember when I first encountered them; they were as clumsy as newborns, with their arms flailing about. To think they could learn so much in such a short period of time is truly absurd. The poor people who just wanted to help another victim out, not knowing that it wasn't a cry for help. I remembered how my life was before this. I was just about to leave home for law school. And my family as well. There was my mom, my dad, and my annoying little brother. Even though there were many fights between us, we were an ok family. My friends too. We had so much fun together. But they’re all gone now. If only the damn government wasn't so obsessed with money and power. Now we have to pay the price.

The next morning, when I woke up, I slowly zipped down my tent and peeked out. I don't know when I fell asleep, but it must have been after they left. After all, they have no sense of thought. Every living thing they see, they kill. They're not the type to leave someone alive. Luck was on my side last night, but it's best not to get too cocky as it might betray me today.

I slowly walked out of my tent and took a quick scan of my surroundings. Everything looked the same as it had been when I first camped here. I guess they hadn't found anything that caught their eye. I quickly packed up my tent and started to walk forward. I was running low on supplies, so I decided to look around some more and check if there was anything I could use.

I approached what seemed to be a grocery store. I twisted the handle. It was unlocked. I opened the door and rushed in. I began searching for anything that could be of use. Someone had already been here by the looks of it, but I'm sure I'll find something. After a while, I left the grocery with some lighters, bottled water, jerky of some kind, and more protein bars. I couldn’t find anything else besides some rotting raw meat, which I was not going to take, but at least I found something edible. I left the grocery immediately after and continued walking.

I looked up at the sky. Honestly, I'm not sure if I'll be able to survive. I don't know what to do anymore and I just feel so helpless. But I have to keep on going to my destination, to shelter. I'm not sure if the shelter has moved places, if it happened to be destroyed, or if it hadn't even existed in the first place. I started this journey filled with hope, but it's slowly draining me. And in its place is uneasiness. I don't think things will get better. We will be stuck here with no way to call for help. Sooner or later, we will all die, and the human population will turn to zero. How hilarious. To think we're the reason we're dying. And the world won't stop for us or our deaths. They'll just keep on going, and we can't do anything to stop it. Nothing can stop time.

16.09.2022 20:16:39
Melpomene

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Why Genies are not Better than Witches

Out of all the hundreds of books in the study room and the thousands of books in the local library The Mysterious, Magnificent, Miraculous Misadventures of Mira Moppins was the girls’ absolute favorite. Regardless of how many dogears the book had accumulated or how many lines Genevieve and Carlie could recite by heart, The Mysterious, Magnificent, Miraculous Misadventures of Mira Moppins was still the book the twins demanded she read to them at bedtime – or at nap time – or at afternoon reading time – or just because some of their new toys had not yet heard it and it was imperative that they do. The book had been the girls’ obsession since they were three-years old. Said obsession seemed to only be getting stronger now that the twins were starting to be as old as the allusive Mira Moppins herself.

Therefore, it was not surprising at all that as soon as the babysitter showed up again, she was led by the hem of her periwinkle dress to the playroom and immediately handed a copy of The Mysterious, Magnificent, Miraculous Misadventures of Mira Moppins. She sighed, sat on the carpet cross-legged, and began to read aloud from the beginning of chapter four. Meanwhile, Carlie lay on the floor illustrating an epic battle between a princess-pirate and a giant pink octopus on a piece of paper – which later turned out to be the back of a utility bill that had gone missing during breakfast. Genevieve sat on her bed dutifully re-enacting Mira Moppins’s adventures with some quite mangled paper dolls. (“Be careful with that one, Ginny! No amount of tape will save it if the head comes off again.”)

It was in this afternoon atmosphere, that the babysitter found herself becoming more and more agitated with Mira Moppins and the genie she was just about to discover in a cave by the seaside cliffs where her aunt lived. Not that the babysitter minded the story, really. The book was nicely written and long enough that she wasn’t completely sick of it yet.

It was the inaccuracies she couldn’t stand, and chapter four was especially rich in them. First, there were the magic ditties that the little “witch apprentice” Mira used once the genie gifted her magic power. The empty rhymes. The terrible rhythm. The complete disregard for the basic give-and-take that real magic took. If only they had known what real witches were like. What they were capable of. What she herself were capable of. The depiction of the genie was ridiculous too. What sort of self-reflecting genie had no limit for the number of wishes? What sort of genie took a physical form and abandoned their duties to join a ragtag group of rambunctious children?

“I wish we found a genie!” Carlie declared and cut through the babysitter train of thought. “So many things I would wish for!”

“Would you wish for magic powers like Mira?” Genevieve asked as she slotted the paper dolls between the bed and the wall one by one.

“Yeah obviously. But mostly it would just be neat to have a genie of our own. Wouldn’t have to learn any magic words. We would just have to do the wishing.”

“That would be cool. And what would be the point of having magic when the genie can just do it for you?”

“Exactly! Genies are so much better than witches!”

The babysitter slammed the book closed. “They most certainly are not! You can only be sure of what you’re getting when you’re doing the work yourself.”

Genevieve blew a raspberry and threw the evening gown of a paper doll at her babysitter.

“What’s the point if you can’t even do everything that a genie can? Genies are so much more powerful than witches. Mira can only make it rain, Henki can make it rain thimbles and buttons.”

“I thought you girls admired Mira for who she is,” the babysitter tried, frowning.

“We do! But just because she’s clever! Not because she can do magic. Doing magic doesn’t get her out of butterfly monarch’s enchanted garden anyway. Her quick thinking does!”

The babysitter shook her head in disappointment. “Maybe so, but some day you will see how utterly mistaken you are about genies and witches. Never mess with inhuman beings promising to make your wishes come true, never mind what this book has to say.”

“As is we’re ever going to use that advice,” Carlie tisked. “Magic isn’t real anyway. But if it were, we’d be right about it.”

“Yeah, and we’d know better what to do with is!” Genevieve added. “You don’t understand anything about magic!”

It was with this innocuous conversation that a tiny seed of evil was firmly rooted into the fertile soil of the babysitter’s wrinkly frontal lobe. She just had to show the terror twins how real – and how dangerous – magic could be. She knew better, of course, than to go against the rules of her coven. She couldn’t perform any magic in front of the twins, little as they were. She also couldn’t concoct a spell or a curse from a distance. Genevieve and Carlie would not make the connection to witches anyway, no matter how fantastical the results. The babysitter could, however, still show the girls the unreliability of genies. The supernatural might not have been allowed to reveal itself to the ordinary folk but there was nothing to stop ordinary folk from stumbling across the supernatural. Besides, it was so very easy, to get her hands on a genie. Her grandmother had a small collection in her living room cabinet – and the old bat would hardly notice, so long as she remembered to return the bottle in time.

It was a terrible idea of course. Irresponsible. Selfish. However, the babysitter couldn’t resist. So, when she prepared for babysitting yet again next week, she had an ornate glass bottle wrapped in a scarf at the bottom of her bag. Before entering the house, she hid it in the garden, underneath the rose bushes. Then she demanded (a little more enthusiastically than usual) that they should go enjoy the sunshine after morning rain and admire the jewel-like water droplets on flower petals. It didn’t take long at all for the girls stomping around in their polka dot rubber boots to catch the bait.

“Carlie! Look!” Genevieve cheered and lifted the bottle up to the sun to admire it. “How peculiar.”

Carlie thumped into her sister’s side. She crabbed a hold of the bottle too and examined the purple liquid inside with great interest. “You don’t think- What do you think it is?”

“I don’t know. Maybe dad left if for us to find? Or maybe a stranger tossed it over the fence. I think we should open it and find out!”

Genevieve pulled the bottle closer and uncorked the bottle with a loud pop.

With an enormous speed, purple smoke began pouring out of the bottle into a formless cloud. The girls backed away in part fear part awe as the genie took on the space. It did not resemble a human in any way. It was just a purple cloud confined by invisible spherical wall. It didn’t even have a face. Well, not until it spoke with thunderous vigor: “Three wishes. No more no less. Be quick about it, let me rest.”

Inside a cloud, the form of skull was illuminated as though via a lightning strike. It seemed to scare the girls a little, so that neither spoke immediately.

“A-are you a genie?” Genevieve wondered having come to her senses first.

“Yes.”

The twins looked at each other, flabbergasted. Neither of then could scarcely believe this – but this certainly was no magic trick. Even the best illusionist or magician couldn’t hope to come up with these special effects – and who would even bother, for the sake of two ordinary little girls. Carlie frowned some as she though back to what she knew of genies other than the one without a wish limit in The Mysterious, Magnificent, Miraculous Misadventures of Mira Moppins.

“But shouldn’t we get two? There are two of us after all,” she complained.

“Three wishes,” the genie declared.

“Can we wish for anything?” Genevieve asked.

“Yes.”

The girls, looking terribly serious, started whispering to themselves frantically. The babysitter surveyed their negotiations with a lifted eyebrow – but neither of the girls seemed to remember she was there at all. It was all the same anyway. She intended to have no involvement in any wish-making today. Finally, the girls seem to come to a consensus. Carlie turned her big brown eyes towards the genie and said: “We wish could fly like fairies”

“Granted.”

For a little while it seemed as though nothing happened. The girls just stood there, and the genie remained quiet, trying to see if they felt any different. Carlie was starting to seem terribly disappointed, but Genevieve began dancing and hoping around to figure out how to do it. On her third jump, she didn’t land. She was suspended mid-air and kept slowly sliding upwards, as if she was floating in water, swimming through air. She kicked and found herself able to move faster, to swerve around the apple tree branch at speed. (“It worked! It worked!) It didn’t take Carlie long to follow her examples – and soon two girls were swooping and spinning about the garden, making loop-the-loops and chasing each other in an airborne version of tag.

“No flying higher than the fence!” the babysitter chided them once, though the girls didn’t seem to much notice. They kept it up for the better part of an hour, enjoying the sunshine and the crisp air, until the remembered that it was getting cold and there were two more wished to get to.

The girls, bottle firmly in Carlie’s tiny fists, ran to the playroom with the babysitter hot on their heels. The spherical genie cloud didn’t seem any less imposing inside than it had outside. The girls regarded it with intense concentration.

“What should we wish next?” Carlie thought aloud, now much more confident about negotiating aloud.

“I’m kind of hungry. We should wish for something yummy to eat. Something we don’t get every day. Mom only left us those stupid cucumber sandwiches anyway.”

Neither girl stopped to ask the babysitter, if they were allowed to eat anything else today – but it was alright. She saw this as an opportunity for teaching lessons and didn’t intend to interfere with the girls making a mistake. Carlie clapped her hands in excitement. “Yeah, I wanna eat too! Genie, we wish we had a miniature town made of sweets, cakes, candy and all the other stuff we love to eat!”

“Granted.”

The light in the room went out suddenly, and as they came back a second later, Carlie’s wish had come true. There was a tower made out of waffles, a cathedral consisting exclusively of types of donuts. Chocolate streets zigzagged across the floor and cakes shaped like little houses bordered them in every direction. A little park with candy cane trees, lemonade lakes and merengue bushes poked out from the center. Little cookie habitants – cookies firemen, cookie lovers, and cookie dalmatians - were sprinkles across the sweet town, waiting to be devoured.

The girls dug in. There was so much food they barely made a difference to the landscape. Nevertheless, they ended up eating much more than they were supposed to and the babysitter got a little worried about the girls feeling ill during the night. They seemed to be bottomless pits, as they grabbed a fistful from this house and a pinch from that house, stuffing exorbitant amounts of sugar down their throats.

“Why didn’t we wish for everlasting supply of cake. We’re going to run out eventually, and most of this will probably go bad before we can get to it,” Genevieve grumbled as she had finally climbed on the bed to take a breather from eating.

Carlie shrugged, though she didn’t look nearly as sorry since she had clearly eaten way too many sweets just now. “At least we have the flying. We can always do that.”

“Yeah. But the next one should still be something that lasts forever.”

“I think we should wish something for mom or dad. They’re always complaining about the roof leaking or the Westermanns’ having a bigger more beautiful house. Maybe we could ask for more money to come their way.”

Genevieve rolled her eyes and shoved her sister gently off the bed. “Money is such a boring wish. I want to have fun with this.”

“I think we should think more. It is the last wish. We should be careful with it,” Carlie argued, frowning.

“Shouldn’t I get to make the wish anyway? You got to say the other two.”

“Yeah – but we agreed on them together.”

“Well, you worded that last wish badly. I could’ve done better, so I should be the one to say this last wish.”

Carlie looked a little hurt by that. “Not if you’re gonna waste your wish with something that’s not gonna do anything for our lives anyway! Money could fix that!”

“I can think of something to improve our lives for sure. Mom and dad would just splurge it all on something stupid like a new house. What do we need a new house for when this one is good too!” Genevieve complained.

“Maybe we could tell them we don’t want that?”

“As if they would listen to us anyway. They wouldn’t even believe where they money came from. We better just wish for something for the two of us.”

“I’m sorry,” Carlie said, shaking her head. “I just think we should be smarter than that. Genie, we wish we had a hundre-“

Genevieve slapped a hand over Carlie’s mouth. Before, Carlie could bite her hand and free herself, Genevieve yelled the final wish to the genie: “We wish we could live in an adventure, just like Mira’s, for the rest of our days.”

In a flash the genie was gone – and so were the girls. Laying on the floor, open from the middle, was a storybook illustrated by beautiful watercolor pictures. On this particular page, an illustration of Mira Moppins swimming underwater was depicted. There, behind her, now appeared two new figures – young identical-looking girls quickly running out of air in the bottom of the ocean. Genevieve and Carlie, now reduced to nothing but pictures and words on paper.