Thank you!

Haha, I wonder that too.

Holy hell, I love your take on it! I’ve read the linked story and I’m itching to read more! Would absolutely love to read a book about his chronicles.

“Knew it.” Said the archaeologist, smirking. Holding a glowing lamp in one hand and the genie’s previous home in another.

“Well well well, I trust you know the gist”

“I know the gist,” replied the archaeologist, “and I want some advice.”

The genie’s face didn’t glow at all in the lamp-lit cave they were standing in, but it was clear the surprise was etched on his blue, transparent face.

“Some… advice?” The genie raised his eyebrow and the archaeologist sighed.

“Yeah, advice. I’m sure you have some wise pieces of advice” He tried to pat the genie on his shoulder, though his hand passed through his body. The genie looked as uncomfortable as the archaeologist was embarrassed.

“Okay, listen up mr…” The genie looked him up and down, judging him.

“Just call me Tim.” Tim flashed a bright smile but it didn’t hide his tired eyes.

“My first piece of advice for you Tim, don’t wish for momentary things. And don’t wish for arbitrary things either like ‘happiness’ or else I’m free to bend the rules as much as the word ‘happiness’ allows me to.” Tim listened intently as the blue genie floated around the cave, passionate about making various different expressions with his hands.

“Wish for the permanent things. The irreplaceable and the otherwise completely unattainable if it wasn’t for me, like wishing for you to be an undeniable genius in one specific thing” To this, Tim’s face lit up, a lightbulb suddenly turning on inside his mind.

“Would you,” Tim redirected his gaze towards the tight walls of the cave “Would you tell me if my following wishes are ‘wise’?”

“Will do.” The genie smiled. “What will your first wish be?”

“I wish to get out of this cave.” He answered, unhesitatingly.

“What?”

“The passage kind of collapsed. By mistake. I’ve been looking for your lamp for a while, don’t know what I would’ve done if I hadn’t found it”

“Living the real Aladdin role, I see?” The genie let out a hearty laugh but Tim clearly didn’t find it as funny. He snapped his fingers and with a brief moment of vertigo, they both found themselves outside the cave, in the barren, moonlit desert. “First wish done, it was a wise one.” He passed a wink to Tim, who was now sitting on the desert sands, clutching both lamps.

“Thank you,” he sighed “Now, I wish to possess incredible writing talent and skill. I want to be able to write, to weave the words into a cohesive story. To understand the ins and outs of every word I type.” Glancing up at the moon before continuing “and to say good riddance to this job.” He muttered this last part under his breath, the genie almost couldn’t hear it.

The genie looked impressed, his chest puffed with a look of pride on his eyes. Not proud of himself, but of Tim. “Very wise one.” He snapped his fingers, “you’ll feel a headache at first but it will subside, try not to think of writing anything for now.”

The instant he snapped, Tim took a sharp inhale from his teeth, cradling his bursting head with his arms and dropping both the gas lamp and the genie’s lamp.

“Careful with that,” the genie said, “you okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Tim groaned.

“Good to hear, now for your last wish.” The genie felt something he felt many times before: the dread of being back in his lonely lamp waiting for the moment he was found again. Disappointment that he wasn’t going to be seeing where the man that stood in front of him was going, and if he were to make a personal wish, he’d wish for this man to succeed. Tim’s face looked different now, lost in thought. Every mark of his exhausted face highlighted in the moonlight.

“I wish for,” he hesitated, looking to the moon again as if looking for guidance. “I wish for a friend.” His eyes looked everywhere but the genie. “I know. I know it’s naïve and childish and—“

“It’s not.” The genie interrupted with his most-serious voice yet.

“Look, I just really,” Tim paused, “I really want a friend. A loyal friend, one that’s willing to be my proofreader. A fun one that doesn’t make me feel like every second spent with them is punishment. One that doesn’t, well, doesn’t hate me. A brother of sorts, one that allows me to just… be” he lifted up his glasses to wipe the tears welling up in his eyes.

“That’s your wish?” His voice was airy now, The genie hadn’t felt this way before, he hadn’t felt this found.

“That’s my wish.” Tim replied with faux certainty. “Is… is it wise—?”

“Yes, Tim. Yes, it’s the wisest one yet.” The genie giggled with the most joy he’d felt in millennia. And he snapped his fingers for the last time. His blue transparent body now glowing in a white so bright it outshone the moon, transforming into a friend.

“How would you take me as a friend, Tim? I promise I’ll be fun.” He smirked, awkwardly.

Tim grinned, all the new possibilities he can think of now coursing through his veins.

“Of course I would.” He answered with more confidence than he’d ever felt in his lifetime. “I suppose we’ll need a new name for you now?” Tim patted him on his shoulder, and it didn’t go through him this time.

“Yes. I suppose we will.”