By: Thomas J. Griffin.

“You’re sure?” asked the genie.

Old man Bill nodded. He’d bought the lamp at a garage sale, mistaking it for a watering can. “You said anything. I want fresh tomatoes for my salad.”

“But as your last wish?”

Bill stamped his foot.

The genie snapped at Bill’s vegetable patch; the desiccated tomato stalk turned green, several tomatoes ripening instantly.

Bill plucked the largest and took a bite. He grimaced.

“Sour!” He tossed the tomato to the genie and toddled off to tend the squash. “Should’ve known—didn’t earn it.”

The genie took a bite himself, lips pursing.

“Sorry, no refunds.”

© 2025. Thomas J. Griffin

Thomas J. Griffin is a life-long fiction lover and sumo wrestling enthusiast who lives in Nashville, Tennessee, and writes in an attic that could use more natural light. From said attic he also edits Flash Point SF and drinks tea.

Posted December 10, 2025