You’re shopping at a market in Marrakesh, a city located in western Morocco, Africa. You find an old lamp, and after you dust it off, a genie pops out. You’re given one wish. What would it be?
This was an exercise my third Thursday poets did last week. We each wrote, in whatever form we chose, what our wish would be. Some wished to be reunited with loved ones passed away. Others wished for world peace. I’m pretty embarrassed by what I wrote, but here it is, anyway.
I wish I could be a best-selling author with a well-known publisher that would pay for me to traverse the country and maybe the world to promote my books, and what money I make would be enough so I could live without social security. It would also be nice if my husband hadn’t died, and he hadn’t had two strokes so he could more easily enjoy my success. Now that I think of it, I wish my father hadn’t died, either. However, since I only have one wish, I’ll wish for success in my writing.
If you had one wish, what would it be?