Wishful Thinking

Midday on Saturday Miles found himself in a basement surrounded by boxes and unused furniture. He had been volunteered by his father to help his aunt Lucy sort out all of his recently deceased grandmother's belongings. Most of the boxes in the basement had been there for years after his grandmother had moved to the house after the death of Miles' grandfather. For what seemed like the hundredth time Miles shook his head in disbelief at the fact he was in this position.

Miles didn't have a problem with helping Aunt Lucy. As Lucy was only around thirteen years older than him Miles considered her to be more like a sister or cousin than an aunt. She was the youngest of his father's siblings and had babysat him and his sister frequently when he was younger. At family gatherings Lucy seemed just as comfortable spending time with her nieces and nephews as she was with her siblings.

The job itself wasn't anything difficult, Miles was to go through the boxes and take a brief inventory, setting aside any items that someone in the family might want. The problem Miles had was that beside being tedious there were quite a few boxes that contained fragile ornaments, glassware and other stuff susceptible to breaking. He was of the opinion that he was the last person that should be entrusted with valuable keepsakes.

Miles was clumsy, he also seemed to have a knack for breaking things. He hadn't always been that way. The clumsiness had set in during his mid teens, he had been a late bloomer and when puberty finally kicked in his body had changed practically overnight. The clumsiness resulting from not being used to the changes to his body had unfortunately been fully noticed by everyone in high school. The teasing he received, whether good natured or not had made him self conscious and added to his clumsiness. Any time Miles was asked to do something physical a feeling of dread would rise up in his stomach and if there were any people around to watch him that dread would be amplified to be almost overwhelming.

Now at 19 years of age Miles had gotten used to his body but he retained the self consciousness that had sabotaged his coordination. While his clumsiness had lessened, his aversion to most physical activities remained strong and he preferred to do things like playing video games or reading.

The only real exception to Miles' aversion to physical activity was his love of running. Wary of having a completely inactive lifestyle Miles had talked to Aunt Lucy who had teasingly recommended he try running as he didn't seem to have any problems with walking. Despite it being a joke suggestion Miles had found he enjoyed it, especially the focus running gave him which cleared his mind of self conscious thoughts and any other insecurities.

When he had first been told about the job he had been volunteered for Miles had tried to get out of it. After he made his case to his parents, his father had grinned and told him that he'd get an extra $20 in allowance for his effort. The flipside was that if Miles didn't help he wouldn't get any allowance at all. Without a part time job and not having an alternative source of income, Miles didn't have much choice but to agree to help Aunt Lucy.

He then asked whether there would be anyone else helping, thinking maybe he could avoid handling the breakable items. Unfortunately everyone else who could help was busy, including his sister Felicity who would be at her part time job. For a brief moment Miles had been bitter about being the only person helping out but realised that without a job, sports to play, a girlfriend or much anything else to do he didn't have any excuses for not helping.

When Miles arrived at his grandmother's former house he made a last ditch effort to get out of the work. He told Lucy that getting him to go through potentially precious and fragile items was a huge mistake. Lucy had shrugged and told him that she personally wasn't worried about breakages, if he did break anything it just meant that it would end up as rubbish sooner. A lot of the stuff in the basement would likely end up going to charity or the tip if no one in the family wanted it. She also reassured Miles that there wasn't any real hurry to get the job done so he could take things slowly. That had made Miles feel a little better but there was still the chance that there were precious items in the boxes that someone would get upset about if they were broken and that kept him slightly on edge.

The basement was quite large, it almost covered the same amount of area as the house itself. A lot of the space had been taken up by the boxes and old furniture, it was daunting to see just how much stuff there was to get through. Miles first took a look around to see if any of the boxes had been marked with the details of their contents but was unsurprised to find he would have to go through every box. Wary of the amount of dust coating everything Miles opened the basement windows and would have opened the door that led outside if it wasn't currently blocked by an old armchair. Not wanting to be distracted Miles set his phone down on a shelf by the basement stairs before making a start.

The first stack of boxes he opened turned out to hold books, Miles went through them quickly and found a few he'd like to have a closer look at later and maybe take for himself. Miles then came across a box that was filled with photo albums, loose photos and framed pictures. He ended up spending some time looking through the photos and was fascinated with the pictures of his father and aunts and uncles when they were younger and the photos of some of the travels his grandmother and grandfather had been on.

Miles opened another box and after pulling away a layer of old clothes he was dismayed to find what looked to be glassware wrapped in old newspaper. Amongst them was an oddly shaped object he couldn't identify. Curious, Miles peeled away the newspaper and found what looked to be a dark blue crystal decanter. When he picked up the decanter he was surprised at its weight, it felt like it still had something inside. Taking hold of the round faceted stopper Miles tried to pull it out but it didn't budge at all, it felt like it was held in place by cement. Miles held the decanter up to the light but the crystal was too dark for him to see through. He was curious about whether the decanter's stopper had always been stuck and wondered where his grandparents had gotten it from.

Miles headed towards the stairs hoping to show the decanter to Lucy. Not paying proper attention to his surroundings Miles' arm clipped a box causing him to lose his grip on the decanter. He could then only watch in horror as the decanter flew in an arc toward the stairs. As the decanter collided with the concrete there was a sharp ringing sound but miraculously no shattering. When the decanter stopped moving and was still in one piece Miles exhaled with relief, the crystal decanter was a lot sturdier than he expected.

When he picked up the decanter to study it for any damage, Miles' heart started to race when he noticed that the stopper looked slightly crooked. Grabbing the neck of the decanter Miles pressed his thumb against the stopper hoping he could push it straight. To his dismay there was a small cracking sound and the stopper started to vibrate. All of a sudden there was a pop as the stopper shot out across the basement and then a hiss as white vapour started to jet out of the decanter.

Miles held the decanter so that the geyser of vapour flowed away from him. He wasn't too worried about breathing it in, with the windows open the basement should be sufficiently ventilated. However as he watched the vapour continued to come out of the decanter he frowned. The vapour was odd, it wasn't spreading out and dissipating, in fact it appeared to be gathering together. Once vapour was no longer coming out of the decanter, it started to move and formed into a roughly person sized cloud. He noticed that when the vapour cloud became densely packed it had a reddish tint.

A more sensible person would probably have been concerned, but Miles was too curious and fascinated to worry. As he watched the vapour cloud tightened into a smaller mass. He saw something in the midst of the vapour but Miles figured it was just finally starting to thin out. So Miles was utterly surprised to see a scantily dressed woman appear, he let out an embarrassingly high pitched yelp and took a few steps back. Fortunately the woman seemed too preoccupied to notice his outburst, she was looking over her body as the remaining vapour appeared to flow into her.

Disbelieving what he was seeing, Miles blinked his eyes several times to make sure he was seeing clearly. As he watched the woman raised her arms up high and stretched, giving him a great view of her figure. She was very beautiful, so much so that Miles would have considered her a dream girl but not even in his wildest fantasies had he seen a woman like her.

The first thing he noticed was her thick mane of hair that was an improbable shade of dark red. When paired with her dusky skin tone it made for a particularly striking appearance. However, in addition to her somewhat exotic colouring, she had a stunning physique. Her large breasts were only just covered by a strip of cloth that criss crossed over her chest to tie behind her neck. Beneath her breasts her toned midriff was bare and then low on her hips was a long patterned skirt that went down to her ankles, there was a large gap in the skirt that left one of her legs completely uncovered. The only thing she was wearing on her feet was a small gold chain with charms around one of her ankles. To Miles, she looked like an athletic belly dancer or a harem girl.

Putting together her appearance with the fact that she had apparently been trapped in a bottle, it occurred to Miles that he might have found a genie. It was completely ridiculous but it was the only thing that really fit. With his mind focused on the absurdity of finding a genie amongst his grandparents' belongings, Miles hadn't given any thought as to how he would deal with the woman. The fact that she was very attractive posed a question of whether he would even be able to talk to her

The self-consciousness Miles suffered from his clumsiness extended to making him nervous in any interaction with a pretty woman. He always got anxious that he was being annoying or foolish. Miles was perfectly normal once they got to know him and he got comfortable around them but getting to that point could be difficult. Depending on how anxious he was he would either be unable to talk or would ramble like an idiot.

The woman looked around at her surroundings with curiosity, muttered something unintelligible and then turned to him and began speaking to him. He didn't understand a word she said, couldn't even begin to identify what language it was. Given the strangeness of the situation it was unlikely that she would speak english but he thought it couldn't hurt to see if she could at least understand him.

He waved in greeting and tried to look as friendly as possible. "Uhh, Hi you wouldn't happen to speak english would you? "

The woman stared at him intently as he spoke and then frowned. He took that as a no and sighed. It was probably for the best, this way his foolish mouth couldn't get him in trouble. He was caught unaware when the woman quickly moved toward him. Before he could properly react she took hold of both sides of his head and pulled it close to hers. This close Miles saw that her eyes were a striking clear blue, other than that his mind froze and he offered no resistance. Miles soon felt her mouth softly pressing against his. The kiss just added to the disruption of Miles' thought process so when the woman opened her mouth he automatically matched her.

He then felt her tongue pushing into his mouth. When her tongue touched his, he felt a small shock like static electricity and the woman immediately broke the kiss and took a few backward steps away from him. The woman looked amused at Miles' flustered expression, "Can you understand me now?"

She spoke with an accent but she was clear and understandable. Miles was still a little stunned from the kiss and the faint taste of honey in his mouth. Miles nodded, "Yes."

The woman was pleased and was just about to speak again when parts of Miles' brain finally got back into gear and he burst out with his own question. "You were in the bottle right? Are you a genie?

She looked at him for a moment and then scoffed, "No. I see why you might think that but I am not one of those poor creatures forced to be subservient to the whims of whoever finds them. I am above that, I serve no one. It would be more appropriate to say that I am a djinn."

"How come you look like a human, shouldn't you have blue skin or something?" As soon as the words left his mouth Miles regretted them, it sounded rude and he was hoping to make a good impression.

Without warning the woman was a lot taller, her skin had turned bright red and her blue eyes looked like they were glowing. "Like this?"

The sudden change was startling and Miles found his legs had become unsteady so he half dropped down to sit on the floor. When he looked up the djinn was looking at him with a mixture of amusement and concern. "Sorry if I scared you, I only meant to show you that I am capable of looking fearsome if I choose to."

The djinn slowly returned to her original height and her red skin shifted back to a dusky brown. She then sat down on the floor close by Miles and watched as he calmed himself with slow steady breaths.

Getting overwhelmed by the absurdity of coming into contact with a mythological being Miles tried to inject a little normality into their meeting.

"Sorry, I should have introduced myself earlier. My name's Miles, what's your name?"

The djinn visibly tensed up at his question and looked at him with suspicion. "You're either foolish or very brazen to give your name to a djinn and then expect them to give you theirs in return."

Even in normal circumstances Miles wasn't good at talking with women but this was completely outside his experience. In a mixture of growing anxiety and bewilderment he let slip a reply, "If you don't want to tell me your name that's okay, but what should I call you? Maybe Ginny?"

There was a brief pause before the woman relaxed and then smiled, "I have been called many things but Ginny seems a little too odd for me. You may call me Zephra."

Feeling a little whiplashed from the sudden changes in her attitude, Miles thought it might be best if he shut up and let her do some talking. Seeing Miles didn't have anything further to say, Zephra took the opportunity to ask some questions of her own.

"Can you tell me what the year is?"

That was straightforward enough for Miles to answer without potentially saying something wrong, "2019." Zephra looked at him blankly. "Uhh, today is August 17."

The answer seemed to confuse Zephra, after a moment she frowned, "I have no idea what that means. Is that a roman thing?"

She looked to the windows and the small sliver of the backyard visible through them. "Are we anywhere near Ctesiphon?"

Miles had never heard of the place so he shook his head, she frowned again. "Where are we?"

It was increasingly looking like Zephra was having just as a bewildering time as Miles was and he started to feel sorry for the djinn. "Have you heard of North America?

"...No"

Zephra looked troubled and was silent as she thought. Miles resisted the temptation to try and fill the silence, he instead took the chance to study her closely.

Appearance wise she looked like she could be in her late twenties but who knew how old she actually was. If he hadn't seen her take form from vapour he would have just thought she was just some gorgeous woman in a costume. While her outfit was revealing it wasn't over the top. With the way Zephra was sitting Miles had a good view of her exposed thigh and a strip of visible skin going almost all the way up to her hip, he wondered whether she was wearing anything under her skirt. His eyes were then drawn to her chest, her top showed a lot of underboob and from where he was sitting he could also see a good amount of the inner slopes of her breasts.

Feeling himself getting a little turned on, Miles started to feel like he was being a creep. When Miles' gaze reached her face again he saw that Zephra was watching him with a hint of amusement on her face. Miles flushed at being caught ogling her and broke eye contact, "Are you okay?"

Zephra nodded and smiled ruefully, "I appear to have been trapped in that bottle for far longer than I could imagine."

"What was it like in the bottle? Were you awake the whole time?"

"It was incredibly boring, I was unable to see outside of it so I was left to my own thoughts for stimulation. At first I kept myself occupied with plans of revenge but when it was clear there would be no immediate escape I spent most of the time in a kind of sleep."

Miles tried to imagine what that would be like and shuddered. "Wow, that's horrifying. I'm sorry you went through that."

Zephra shrugged, "It is not an experience I would seek again. I am very happy that it is now in the past." She reached out and touched Miles' leg, "Thank you."

The grateful expression on Zephra's face and her touch got his blood pumping and few inappropriate thoughts flashed through his mind. Being this close to her and having her pay attention to him was starting to have an effect. Hoping to avoid getting too aroused and embarrassing himself, Miles asked Zephra another question. "So how did you get trapped in the bottle in the first place?"

Zephra sat back and frowned as she remembered how it happened, "It is quite an involved story but in brief, I came across a group of magicians who took themselves far too seriously. I played a few tricks on them and they set a trap for me. I understand that they used a powerful seal on the bottle to ensure that I could not escape. It seems that they also made it difficult to open or surely I would have been released sooner." She moved a little closer to Miles and looked at him intently, "How did you manage to open the bottle Miles?"

Hearing Zephra say his name and the way she was looking at him sent a shiver down his back.

"Oh! I uhh didn't actually mean to open it, I dropped the bottle which messed up the stopper and when I tried to fix it I ended up breaking it. I'm glad being a klutz had a positive effect for a change."

When Zephra smiled warmly at him, Miles felt his pulse speed up.

"l really do appreciate what you have done, even if it was unintentional. It would reflect badly on me if I did not give you some sort of reward."

She paused, took a breath and began speaking in a more formal tone.

"In gratitude for releasing me from my imprisonment I offer you, Miles a gift. Speak your desire and if it is within my power I will grant it."

Without any thought Miles said the first thing that popped into his mind, "I really wish I could have sex with you."

There was a pause as they both realised what Miles had said. Miles' face fell while a broad grin appeared on Zephra's face.

"I didn't mean that! I don't want to have sex with you! Oh god, I'm not saying that I wouldn't want to have sex with you, I mean I don't want to make you do it. You don't have to if you don't want to, I'm not trying to be a creep or coerce you or anything!"

Mercifully his panicked rambling was cut off by Zephra laughing, "You should not worry, I am flattered not offended."

Miles sighed with relief and tried to think about what he should actually wish for when Zephra reached over and touched his wrist.

"Are you ready?"

There was a slight twisting feeling in Miles' stomach, "Ready for what?"

She smiled patiently, "To have sex of course."