Story 42: The Professional Student

            I have achieved my life’s goal at last: I have been hired by my local university to be a professional student.  I am finally paid to do what I do best, which is taking notes, writing papers, and sitting for exams, month in, month out.  I take 15 credits a semester and am slowly making my way through the course catalog.  At the end of each semester, I have to submit an extra evaluation on how engaging (i.e. not boring) the professor was, how much I increased my knowledge, things of that ilk.  It gets a little tricky in the years I “major” in the sciences, especially since I barely had passed the basics on my first go-round.  Not looking forward to when I have to focus on math, either.

            My favorite classes so far have to be the ones for physical education – favorite because they’re the easiest.  Sure, I have no stamina and can’t throw a pitch to save anyone’s life, but there’s usually minimal thinking involved on my part and one paper for the one credit I “earn”.  My lowest point was when I was thrown off the volleyball team for hitting my mates every time I served, but that was fair.  I’m looking forward to when I get to take golf – I’d really like to improve my swing and stop consistently getting triple bogeys.  I also applied to be the football’s team mascot, with the best view of the games paid for only with the constant stench in the costume of mascots past.

            One downside I’ve noticed is that, as the years go by, I have less and less patience with my fellow students.  Call me an old fogie, but when they reference “The Internet” the same way one would reference “the encyclopedia”, you know their train has left the station without them.  Specificity, please!  Use journals in addition to you-know-what-ipedia!  They’re online, too!

            Anyway.  School is fun, I get all the holidays and breaks the kids do, and my future doesn’t hinge on whether I pass that final.  I even get to attend the social events for free, although I don’t fit in the student or faculty categories so I hang out with the employees.  All in all, I have found my life’s purpose: there’s something extremely satisfying in submitting papers on time and being told you did a good job.

            Everybody likes the pat on the head.

Story 41: The Screaming of the Lepidopteron

Day 5: Light blasts into my small world for the first time in my life, having recently hatched into this prison I share with four others.  We have spent the first days of our lives being jostled hither and thither until we at last arrive at what appears to be our final destination.  Giant split wings grab our shelter and giant eyes peer at us, exposed.  Giant mouths split open, showing monstrous teeth in what I can only assume is a preview of our fate.  However, our shelter is set down on a solid surface and I notice fresh air trickling in for the first time since I can remember.  We are left alone, and the horrors in store for us have been postponed (for now).

Day 10: We continue to feast upon our floor, which is the only thing that keeps us from turning on each other.  I have a strange yearning for something leafy and green, but must accept something flat and brown instead.  We have little choice but to wallow in our own filth, as our accommodations are decidedly limited.  I have, however, become especially adept at spinning the silk that my body insists on issuing as I grow bigger and bigger.  My compatriots join me in this one joy in our lives, and we attempt to create a ladder to escape our prison.  We do this with no actual hope of success, as the roof of our cell requires more strength and dexterity to lift than all five of us together possess.  Passes the time, though.

Day 12: It was getting hairy for awhile there as each of us swelled to monstrous proportions, yet our cell remained the same size – what would our captors do if we grew to the point where we burst out of our prison?  I dare not dwell upon what might have been.  Something else happened which made that question moot: one by one, my fellows felt compelled to climb to the roof of our cell, not to escape, but to hang upside down and remain in that position forever.  I would have thought that they had finally succumbed to the madness, if I myself had not felt that same urge.  Let me climb to the edge of the top, just to get a better look at what they are doing up there….

Days 13-21: Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…..

Day 22: Another prison, worse than the last one!  I feel confined, bound by some hideous shell – I must break free!  I wiggle and push, and I feel my bonds give way.  I burst through, gasping sweet air as my wings unfold – hang on: my wings?  From what I can see of myself, I am no longer a tube-like creature with pointy feet and a pointy face but a winged beauty, complete with a proboscis to drink my fill, which now flops forward – whee!  I see my fellow captives have undergone a similar metamorphosis and we all stare at each other as we gather our bearings and let the excess color drain from our glorious appendages.  It is then that I notice that our cell has metamorphosed as well: it is now a larger room, with semi-solid walls and a forest floor.  I first think that the floor is food as with our last cell, especially now that those leafy and flowery things I keep dreaming about seem to be scattered all about the place.  Alas, when I attempt to drink from them with my long mouth, nothing comes.  Surely our captors would not have kept us alive this long simply to starve us to death?

We are taken aback as the giants appear before us, baring their teeth at us again and uttering strange sounds.  The smallest one presses one part of its wing against the semi-solid wall: I go towards it in hopes that food is at last being offered.  That seems to please the little giant and they all make those sounds again.  One of the larger giants opens the top of our new prison, but before any of us can react some wet flowery things are dropped in to join us and the top is sealed again.  Best not approach the new arrivals just yet, but they do smell sweet and edible.

Day 23: Our new prison is much roomier than the last, but it is still confining, especially with five us in here.  If only we knew what our captors’ plans for us were, then this ordeal would be a bit more bearable.  At some points while the other giants are away, a large furry being comes by and raises its closed wing towards us.  We beat our own wings mightily to shoo this creature, but for some reason it appears only to be encouraged by this and waves its closed wing some more at us.  It also emits a strange noise, different from the ones the giants made.  The noise is still untranslatable, but its meaning is clear: "I will kill you".  Not if we kill you first, foul beast!

Day 24: I have long ago accepted my lot in life and have grown to love my compatriots, when our world is overturned yet again.  The giants take our new cell and bring it to a previously unknown area – the smells!  The light!  The air!  This is what we have been destined for our entire lives!  The top is opened once more, and nothing is dropped in.  My companions and I hesitate for an eternity before the bravest of us (who is carrying my seed for our young) ventures forth beyond the walls of our world.  Her flight is magnificent in its erratic path, and we follow one after the other.  The giants seem strangely pleased at our escape, since they make that noise again.  All their teeth are bared, but no one attempts to destroy us.  What odd creatures they are.

I quickly lose sight of my comrades, but no matter: I have approximately ¼ left of my life to go, and I intend to enjoy every moment of my well-earned freedom.  I alight on a lovely flowery thing and drink deeply of its sustenance.  Suddenly, a noise at my side reveals a large, winged, beaked creature who is looking at me as I had looked at this flower a moment ago.

Bring it on, demon.  I’ve faced it all.

Story 40: …It Might Come True

She never thought she’d walk into the kitchen and find a Genie waiting for her.  She couldn’t explain how she knew it was a Genie and not a home invader – she just knew.

Genie: Took you long enough to come back – you cleaned the lamp hours ago and left me sitting here, all alone, drinking your coffee and reading your newspaper.  The world hasn’t changed one bit in 3,000 years, did you know that?

She: Oh!  I – didn’t see you earlier.  Sorry?

Genie: “Sorry?”  Eh, either I sit here or I sit in the lamp, it’s all the same bleh.  So whaddya want?

She: I get three wishes?

Genie: Actually, you get 10. 

She: Really?

Genie: No, you get three!  And they’re more than you deserve – I don’t know who made up the rule that I have to use my awesome powers catering to the whims of nobodies who did nothing special.  It’s not as if you even freed me – after your third wish, back into the lamp I go!  So, what’s it to be?  Spoiler alert: you’re going to hate them all.

She: Oh.  I have to think about this.

Genie: Yes, thinking them out always improves them.

She: I’ve got it!  I wish for world –

Genie: If you say “peace”, I swear to all the gods that are and ever were….

She: Can I undo that?

Genie: Sure.

She: OK.  I wish… people would treat each other better.

Genie: Oh.  That’s actually – not bad.  Let’s try it out.  (Grants the wish) This has to be a first.

She: What?

Genie: A wish that made the world marginally improved.  Nothing noticeable, but a step in the right direction.  All right, I don’t hate you anymore.  Want to do another one?

She: OK!  I think I’ve earned a selfish wish now.

Genie: Set yourself up again, Genie.

She: I wish… I could do more to help those who need it.

Genie: Wow.  I think I’m in love.  Here you go.  (Grants the wish) Hey, where are you going?

She: I’m off to save the world!

(She joins the Peace Corps, Doctors Without Borders, the Salvation Army, and Big Brothers Big Sisters of America, and is soon awarded the Nobel Prize for Peace.   After the ceremony, she is greeted in her hotel room by the Genie)

Genie: Not that I’m feeling useless or anything, but you do owe all your success to me.

She: Oh yes, and I’m extremely grateful.  I’m going to give you half the prize money as a “thank you”.

Genie: Gee, that’s – no!  That’s not how this works!  You’re supposed to make three terrible wishes no matter how well thought-out you think they are so you learn that there are no quick fixes in life and you should appreciate what you have!  Your do-gooding with them is ruining everything!

She: I do want to make my last wish.

Genie: Let me guess – my freedom?

She: No, I figured whoever put you in the lamp felt you deserved it to make up for a lifetime of selfishness and greed.  I’m going to wish that you lose the power to grant anymore wishes to anyone else.

Genie: Huh?  Can I do that?  (Grants the wish) Guess I can.  So, what, I’m still a prisoner and now I’m powerless, too?

She: Now you won’t have to be bothered by anyone for quick fixes and lack of appreciation.

Genie: Then what will I have to complain about?