This was written for my creative writing class and is not meant to be offensive to the homeless in any way. Enjoy!

Crazy Ramblings of the Homeless

By Ettare

Three days had passed since my last meal of meager pizza crusts and apple cores, and I was starving. The empty pit in my stomach was filled only by the cold sensation of winter air and a bit of gutter water I’d managed to cup into my mouth after last night’s rain. By the time I’d reached the corner trash can that usually held some good pickin’s, my fingers were frost blue and another wave of shaky fatigue hit my gut.

Lifting the green, Rubbermaid lid and peering into what I knew would be a heavenly abyss, I saw my first victim, a half-gnawed on chicken bone. Scrambling to shove the cold remnants of food greedily into my mouth, I sighed with happiness. Now to find something to drink. And there it was. Sitting near the right edge of the black, plastic bag was a near empty Coke bottle. Today I was lucky; I was going to experience something more than some muddy road side water.

I lifted the bottle with extreme care. Unscrewing the lid of my treasure, I tipped the contents into my mouth. The taste was phenomenal--something akin to spun, liquid bouillon, the flavor was so great. But something was wrong about my find. Nothing should taste this wonderful. There was a clanging as something hard hit my teeth and dropped into the back of my throat. Instinctively I swallowed, the biggest mistake of my life. I felt as though I had gulped down a large marble. Tears sprang into my eyes as an immense pain slammed into my belly. I was immediately put onto the ground, writhing in the mud.

By the time the pain had subsided, I knew I had to be hallucinating. My hands—my hands were leaking some kind of funny colored sweat. The perspiration oozed and pooled over my skin until it ran off into the dirt. “What in tarnation?” the words slipped from my chapped lips as the runoff sweat began to pull together and take shape.

“You!” a voice bellowed from the open air. “You swallowed me!” Now I could have run, mind you, but I didn’t think runnin’ would be such a great idea, seeing how I wasn’t all there at the moment.

“What’re you s’posed to be?” I slurred and pushed the heels of my hands into the dirt until I was sitting upright.

The thing made a noise of irritation before booming again. “I’m a genie and you’ve wronged me!”

Uh huh--right. Whatever drug someone had put in that Coke was sure doing a mighty fine job on me. Now I was seeing genies, for Christ’s sake.

“Now you have to choose.”

Okay, what? Hallucinations weren’t s’posed to make you choose anything. So I voiced my thoughts intelligently, “What?”

The genie put an agitated hand to his bright purple and orange forehead. “Look,” he ground out, “it’s not that hard. You get to pick one of three choices I will present to you. If you don’t, I ruin your life.”

I nearly laughed. I’d seen some pretty queer things in my life, but a butt ugly, purple and orange genie with a temper is something I’d never come across. “Okay partner,” I picked myself up carefully from the ground and tried to steady myself, “do your worst.” I had nothin’ to lose anyway. I might as well humor myself with this.

The genie nodded and glared. “One: you may choose world peace. The price is, however, that you will die at the age of twenty-five.” This time I really did let out a bark of laughter. I was no good Samaritan.

“Alright, go on,” I motioned after I was done.

Flaring his orange blotted nose fiercely, he said, “Second: you may choose extreme intelligence, but you will be guaranteed that you’ll never find your true love.” Now that one wasn’t too bad. I’m not all that smart, y’see, so a brain boost might just be a good thing. As for true love, I’m homeless. Homeless people don’t exactly lead romantic endeavors. But I still had a third option and I was curious so I motioned him to go on with my hands.

“Third: You may have infinite wealth, but you shall never be able to share it with anyone.” Oh, come on. Was this crack-pot kidding me? I hadn’t taken a shower in a good month or two, had a good meal in longer.

“Have you seen me?” I asked, almost amused. Of course my imagination would come up with something such as infinite wealth. I was probably lying in a gutter somewhere and this was all just a dream.

Ah well, it couldn’t hurt to go ahead with my delusions. I might as well die happy.

“The last one, undoubtedly,” I grinned, happy with my decision.

The genie just sighed, obviously now bored with me as I wasn’t quaking with fear that he’d ruin my life or caring of the consequences of my choice. “Whatever. Your choice has been fulfilled. Go to the bank and don’t come back.”

I shrugged, “Sure.” And so I went, swaying from a near empty stomach and surely dehydration. Harassing some bank tellers might be fun.