By Logan Weiss

Ranjan sat in his office Friday night. It was closing time and he was the last one in the building. Ranjan worked as a manager for a shipping storage center. He didn’t particularly enjoy his job, but kept at it because the pay was decent and jobs were scarce in his town. He couldn’t quit now anyways, no matter how dull the work got. He was struggling enough from the recession and read stories every day of those looking for work.

Ranjan settled his thoughts and began closing down. He stared out the window of the stairwell on his way out. He then noticed what was obvious, but problematic—it was raining.  Hard. This wouldn’t be too annoying for him, however, he had no umbrella.

Ranjan made a mad dash towards his car in the parking lot and tried to stay dry (enough). But his efforts were ruined when he stopped at his car door and stared blankly at the wet asphalt. There was a book lying right there. Ranjan paused for a moment and then picked it up. The cover read “The First Wish”. He climbed into his car, the book in hand, and set it down on the center console and began driving.

There was little time to spare. If his wife had made dinner, it would most certainly be cold by the time he got home. He took one last glance at the spine of the book and questioned it because there was no author, no publisher, and the book was completely dry just a minute after being plucked out of the rain. How odd, he thought.

He switched on the radio so he could hear if the Cardinals were up on the Cubs, but was disappointed to hear they were down 2 in the bottom of the 7th. Just then, the radio was interrupted by an emergency flash flood report for the area. Ranjan slowed his driving and became a little more aware. Then, he realized that when he got home one of two things would happen: Either his wife would yell at him for coming home late or, with the latest news, she might take pity on him for driving through a flash flood.

At the next intersection, the light was red and he rolled to a stop. He picked up the book and read the first page. It was titled “The First Wish”, but the page itself was blank. As his eyes scanned the spot where the first line should have begun, a quill appeared in his hand, colored darker than the book itself. Ranjan was so disoriented by this that he didn’t notice the light had turned green. Ranjan moved the quill over to the book as if to write.

When the quill touched the paper, thick smoke engulfed him and the book. Ranjan closed his eyes for a second. When he reopened them, he was no longer in his car, no longer on the road, and no longer on Earth? He couldn’t tell where he was, but it felt otherworldly. He sat at a desk in a room with black walls. There were two chairs, one on each side of the desk. The other chair was empty. A voice called out to Ranjan, but he couldn’t distinguish where. It sounded like it was coming from all around him.

Then, an entity appeared before him, calling out once more. It was the same voice that he had heard before, but it was somehow more mysterious seeing what the voice came from than hearing it without a body to match it. This entity was humanoid in shape, but towered over him. He figured it must be about 9 feet tall. He also noticed that it was holding the same book he had picked up outside his car.

The entity took a seat across from him and addressed Ranjan by name. He wondered how it knew his name, but didn’t pry. The entity then introduced itself as The Scribe. A strange name, but fitting to a creature so bizarre. The Scribe told Ranjan that he was the first person to pick up the book and, as a reward, he was allowed one wish. The Scribe saw that Ranjan looked confused and was about to explain more, but Ranjan interrupted him, his mind flooded with questions. 

The Scribe began, ”So, what is it that you desire most? What is your wish?”

“I wish for my wife to never have to work again. Can you make that happen?” Ranjan replied.

The Scribe thought for a moment and then answered. “That sounds good to me. Your wish has been granted.”

Ranjan thanked The Scribe and asked to be returned home. The Scribe then promptly returned him to his car. Ranjan was still stopped at the intersection right where and when he had been whisked away. He was frozen in place by his own volition, stuck processing all that had just happened, wondering if it had been a dream. He felt exhausted, so it would make sense.  

Ranjan was snapped back to reality by a car behind him who honked, yelling at him to start driving again. The rest of Ranjan’s drive was calm even through the torrential downpour. He parked his car in the garage and hurried inside, hoping to catch dinner with his wife. As he opened the door, he called out to her, “Aisha, I’m home!”

There was no reply.

He thought that his wife was angry at him for missing dinner so he shouted once more,”I’m sorry I came home late, I had to close down tonight!” Once again, there was no reply.

He muttered to himself and sat down at the dining room table. His plate was prepared with a beautiful dinner. He appreciated that his wife left him dinner instead of feeding it to the dog to punish him for coming home late. That had happened just a few weeks ago.

He ate his meal and was satisfied, as it hadn’t grown cold at all. It was as though it was fresh out of the oven. After he finished, he rinsed his plate off and set it in the dishwasher. He went upstairs to muster an apology, but his bedroom was empty. He called out apologizing and asking his wife to come out from wherever she was. He was met with more silence.

He went back downstairs and noticed something off. His dog Nala was sitting in the kitchen with her snout touching the floor in front of her. She wasn’t wagging her tail and had started whining. He rushed over to Nala and questioned, “What’s wrong, girl? Are you okay?”

He hugged Nala and then asked a third question. ”Have you seen mom anywhere?” Right then, Nala shifted, emphasizing her snout touching the ground. He didn’t know what Nala was trying to tell him, but he understood one thing: his wife was missing. Panicked and wanting to clear his head, he went out back to the garage, opened the door and sat in his car, questioning himself.

He looked towards the center console, he saw the book from earlier was still there. He picked it up again and flipped to the first page. However, this time he saw actual words. This was impossible. But his eyes did not deny him—he wasn’t being deceived. He kept repeating to himself, ”No, no, no!”

He took deep breaths and calmed down a little as he looked at the words and began to read the chapter. Then there was no doubt left that what he had experienced was not a dream, because it had been recorded in the book, the once barren pages now filled with his own thoughts and memories of the night. It was then that he remembered his wish and pieced it together. He had wished for his wife to not have to work anymore, and the result was that his wife no longer existed.

To test his theory, he walked over to his neighbors’ house. He walked slowly through the rain, still in shock and disbelief. Stopping in front of the door, he knocked twice. His neighbors, Olivia and Marcus, promptly opened the door. They had a concerned expression on their faces and shared a glance at each other. They quickly waved him inside and asked him what had happened and if he needed a drink or a towel. He shook his head and got straight to his point, “Do either of you remember my wife, Aisha?” The question seemed to bounce off of them. “Who?” they replied simultaneously.

Ranjan stormed out of the house and ignored their shouts. He went to his garage and got right in his car. He drove out of the neighborhood and got on the main road. He had no idea where he was going, but he knew that he had to dispose of this book. Reaching the bridge before the city that overlooked a large river that went out to sea, he figured this would get the book as far away as possible.

He stopped his car on the side of the bridge and hopped out, carrying the book in hand and then tossing it far out into the water. He watched it fall but lost sight of it through the rain and in the dark. He assumed that was the end of the story for him and drove back home. When he had arrived back at the house he got in his bed and fell asleep almost immediately. When he awoke, he had no memory of what had happened the night before, or of Aisha. 

–

Logan Weiss is a student from North Carolina. In his free time, he enjoys hockey and playing video games such as Destiny 2 and Hearthstone.