matapam (pamuphoff) wrote,

Ideas from the Drunken Muse

For those of you who don't Facebook . . .

"I'm going to have adventures, when I grow up." Exzy informed his unimpressed audience of older boys. "This is my wizard's coat."

"It's stupid. Even a girl wouldn't wear that." Stodie sneered. "Why don't you just get out of the way, else I'll send you on an adventure right now."

Exzy crossed his arms stubbornly. "Send away. Dad'll get you, if Mom doesn't get there first."

The boys laughed.

"Oooo! The brave adventurer is going to run to Mommy!" Farris grinned. "Hey, Larr, Can you open and close a gate before anyone notices?"

"No but I can be embarrassed, and surprised at how easy it was, and I closed it right away, sorry teacher."

Exzy pulled his dimensional bag out of his pocket, reaching in for the knife he wasn't supposed to bring to school. A grab and shove, and he was in the bag!

He could dimly hear laughter.

And Stodie. "Hey, if we stick the handles in that empty bottle, he won't be able to open them and get out, will he?"
The handles closed on their laughter. The darkness descended.

"Oh . . . Doodie!" Exzy got himself turned around and located the handles by feel. He pried at them, got them open a few inches, which gave him a view distorted view through green glass. "Oh, double doody! If I can't break the glass, I'll be stuck here until Mom or Dad come looking for me . . . and they're awful busy . . ."

I'm eight years old. I really wish I was magically precocious, like Dad. Or Aunt Q. But I'm going to have to get out of this the old fashioned way.

He shoved the handles out until they hit the glass, brought them almost together and slammed them open. Producing noting but a loud clank. He slammed then open and closed a few times, threw his weight against one side to try and topple the bottle . . .

Then the view through the glass swung around . . . Exzy closed the handles . . . Maybe they'll fall out . . . opened them wide and fell out himself.

Onto a grimy street . . . a narrow alley festooned with trash . . . and three hideous old people gawping at him.

"A Genie!" The man whose rags were topped with a filthy black coat peered at him.

The old woman held a green wine bottle upside down in one hand. Her other hand darted forward and grabbed him. "He's mine! I let him out! I get the three wishes!"

Uh oh. I think those idiots did open a dimensional gate and throw me through. I think . . . I'm about to have an adventure!


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