Knee Jerk Desideratum

Glancing around, he couldn’t help but notice that his smartly shood feet were on an entirely different surface. He was outside, in fact. Oh, he would get his shoes dusty. 

A red thing on wheels was crunching rocks and crawling towards him on the right. The green seemed to have left this land , and the soil there was imprisoned or encased by patches of a hard grayish material. What the hell, he thought. The red thing made a loud noise and he practically jumped out of his skin!

Quickly turning away from it, he was awestruck by the height of the hut looming there. It didn’t really look like a hut, but he didn’t know what else to call it. He wasn’t aware of another name for a place with an inside. His feet took him towards the over-sized hut as casually as he could manage under the circumstances. His instincts were screaming not to call attention to himself till he could figure out his whereabouts. 

A green railing was soon in reach of his hand. He was about to step up when he saw it, resting stoutly on the railing. A small orb with intricately laced threads of orange took possession of his eyes. Huh, he thought. That cluster, all weaved together, looks like the West Continent. Forgetting all about the loud noise that scared him, he bent over to get a closer look. The ball cast a shadow and was pulsing slightly. There was a hum coming from it. He put his finger on it. It felt like jelly, like he imagined an eyeball would feel. If poked. 

Suddenly, the humming increased. It grew shriller and louder until he threw his hands up to his ears to block them. The noise reached a crescendo, then slowly died down, returning to its original volume. He was panting when he let his hands drop, and half expected to see blood on his palms. The normal hum was there, but now it was punctuated by sharp bursts. Almost like he was hearing CRYING.

I SWEAR that looks like…

Scratching his chin in a puzzled, old man way, he walked around the bannister. There was a shape sharply resembling the Trifecta Islands. The maps of his world were intricate, passed down from unknown ancestors and stored in the home of each Craglana, or chief. He had gotten to study them when his friend, son of the Craglana invited him over.

The world is round you know.

Everyone knows that.

But he hadn’t known. And the maps had not been in color. He remembered being very jealous, that his father might have such fine items as were stored in the map room of the Craglana. He had snatched an hourglass shaped pewter container, quickly stuck it up his sleeve. Leaving the hut that night, he had stuck his tongue out at his friend who had it all. except this little container. and In his room he had rubbed it, made it blazon and…

Oh shit.

That fucking Genie was real after all. And here was his new adventure.