Pocketful of Tame Wishes
fantasyEveryoneNana's wish shop smelled of cinnamon and warm brass. It was Wren's first morning as keeper, and the wishes woke up grumpy. Little glass jars glowed dim on the shelves, half-done and muttering, rattling against the wood. On the counter lay Nana's open ledger. Three names were underlined twice. Below them, in Nana's loopy writing: 'Mend these before the wishes turn, or they'll run wild by nightfall.' Wren swallowed and read the first name.
The first name was Tomas Bell, the baker down the lane. His jar glowed faint orange and smelled of burnt bread. The note said he'd wished his loaves would 'never go cold.' Wren grabbed the jar and ran to the bakery, where smoke was pouring out of every window.
What happens next?
2 ways forwardInside, every loaf glowed red-hot and would not cool down. Tomas flapped a towel, his eyes wide. 'They keep getting hotter!' he cried. Wren saw how the wish had twisted: 'never cold' had become 'always burning.' She held up the jar and tried to think fast.