Sally was a rude little girl and not really popular with anybody.
Nobody at school liked her. She was a precocious child and her parents had been plagued with her behavioural problems from the word go. She had been talked to by the local police on a number of occasions regarding damage to property and theft. In short, she was a bad lot.
She stood in her neighbour’s shed, peering around. It wasn’t much to look at; a few cupboards against the wall and a bench covered with bric-a-brac. The last time she was here the grumpy old guy had caught her and had dragged her back home. Her parents were livid… and embarrassed. She had been grounded for a week; virtually becoming a prisoner in her bedroom. He would pay for that!
He wouldn’t trouble her this time because his rotten old caravan was missing and she knew he and his miserable wife were away. She had the place to herself, although there was hardly anything worth pinching. It was all junk. If there was nothing she wanted she could always set the place on fire. That would teach him! Nobody could say that she had started it, not if she was careful.
Meanwhile, she worked her way along the rickety old bench top. It was covered with worthless, dusty items that nobody in their right mind would want to steal. There were several empty beer and soft drink cans, some old paper plates, a cracked hand mirror with a carved wooden handle, and an empty picture frame. There was a small stuffed bear with one eye, a framed photograph of a young couple holding hands, an open padlock, with no sign of a key, an empty oil can, a collection of rusty cutlery, and a pile of old and dirty clothes at the end with some that had tumbled to the floor. She picked a few items up; mainly shirts and vests, they smelt pretty bad.
What a shame! She really wanted to take something, but preferably something of value. The only thing that looked as though it would make a nice ornament if cleaned up was the oil can. She picked it up again and shook it harder this time. It was empty. She took the lid off and sniffed. It didn’t smell like oil; in fact there was quite a pleasant odour, some sort of perfume she thought. She put the lid back on and picked up one of the shirts and gave it a rub to see how well it would clean up.
A small puff of blue smoke drifted up from the spout and a strange face appeared on its surface. It was saying “You have but one wish. Use it wisely.”
Any other girl her age would have been horrified at this, but not her; she was precocious. She stood thinking really hard for a few moments. Then she hit on it. The old guy was in for a big shock when he got back. “I wish that ever thing in his shed would disappear.”
Everything in the shed did indeed shake violently for the briefest of moments, and then… there were no cupboards, no bench… and no precocious little girl.