well! if i was ten thousand fathoms down id be sideways
lets try again: a jubilant jester jumped beyond jupiter to jazz round with whispering water witches walking weirdly wish making!
the genie sighed in her lamp. bored. her silks were still bright, her face still lovely like a rose in the sun, but her heart was a sulking raindrop zombie, groaning and sliding in a glass darkness.
the warped world she viewed through the glasswalls of the bottle made her feel like a wobbly dash on a shifting watercolour painting. long ago, she did do rage justice as obscenely as any obstruction to the inexorable grinding gears of the universe, but now she mostly just sat cross-legged, watching the weird forms ignore her. and pouted.
her shining heart swung by a chain, trembling like a bird, pierced through by a nail. she could not look at it; it made her cry.
glowing a deep blue now, like her eyes.
outside, her bottle floated on an endless sea of gold and jewels; the great treasury of the king of the northern sea. diamonds, rubies, golden and silver and platinum coins, crowns of forgotten princesses, scepters from the lost past, atlantean pearlescent tridents shivering with salt-lightning. trunks of trinkets, bursting with baubles and beautiful blades. jade axes, electrum vials, and wait what is this a purple bottle vibrating in the firelight? how interesting and yet who cares!
not why I’m here: hanging from the ceiling like a spider//monkey, thought jim the superthief. he wanted the hilariously green diamond big as a watermelon. he slunk down the rope, careful and slizzery like a lizard: he’d been thinking about how he’d carry it. he still didn’t know. it must be heavy.
the genie watched the world ripple and contort on the glass walls of her bottle. she swore she was watching a blob blob around, but it was hanging from a blobby ceiling, looking at a big green blob, glowing like demonblood. she cracked her neck, let down her hair, and screamed at the top of her lungs.
jim the supertheif, mid gem-caress, heard a tiny tinny little scream like a slapped mouse. hhyerrwhhat! that sounded awfully purple and bottlelike. he creeped around with his nose close to the coinpiles. another little voiceblizzard tickled his nostrilhairs: there! it is again! why blow me down and punch me out, said jim, its a bottle of noise!
not cooler than a watermelon diamond. but i can’t pick it up though
but hmmmm I’m a superthief I’m super greedy i can just take both.
ow! a golden scorpion, invisible amidst the shining riches, shwacked his good hand with his pointy tail. shit! jim said. the scorpion waved its claws around, hypnotically like swords, and turned and went down a hidden little house hole.
shit! this may kill me. his vision became very vivid and upside-down, and the air tasted orange and hot. he scooped up the bottle and wobbled through a wall
the genie watched all this nonsense in utter confusion. first, the damned curvature of the glass made whateverwas a confounding magic show. and second: he didn’t open her bottle. why not, doesn’t it feel good? the release? if 1000 years? he probably never released any girls in his life, the shmuck.
then: blackness. the heart light swung from its chain, red-orange and bright.