(I wrote this last night but forgot to post it. There will be two posts today. Also, the last line really doesn’t work so I have to let it simmer for a while until the right words bubble up.)

    At first, Joanna used her newfound magic for good. She didn’t know how long it was going to last, and she figured that she might as well spread as much fun as she could. So little old ladies had flowers appear in their hands, the writer-guy at Starbucks saw his coffee cup fill right back up, and the Mom at the grocery story discovered $30 in her pocket right after her card had been declined.

Joanna felt like someone from a fairytale. She kept checking behind her to see if she was leaving a trail of sparkles or rose petals, as would befit her magical status. She smiled so hard her face ached, there was a little hop in her step as she walked home.

She probably would have just gone on adding fun to the world around her if that guy sitting on his step hadn’t been rude. She could have handled a wolf-whistle, or even a ‘Hey, beautiful!’ – that would have been creepy but somewhat tolerable. His comment, however, was not the least bit tolerable and she wasn’t even sure anyone COULD do that, even if she had been interested. Her first thought was to wonder if his technique had worked on some hapless woman before so he was trying again. Her second thought was to wish that he’d come down with a dreadful itch in a tender spot so he’d stop dreaming up suggestions for passers-by.

It was only when he smacked at his crotch two or three times before jumping up to run into his house that she realized that she could apply her magic a lot more broadly.

She started making a list of what to wish next.