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Story idea - or even idea for a collection of stories.

I looked up from my paper, which wasn’t going that well anyway, and saw him standing there, looking at me.

“What do you want?” I asked, but not very polietly.

“I’m here to curse you,” he said.

“Curse me?” I couldn’t help being a bit bemused. “How do you plan to curse me beyond what this paper is already doing?”

“I plan to grant your greatest wish.”

“I’m sorry, I must have heard you wrong. Did you say you plan to grant my greatest wish as a curse?” Already I had visions of Mary Jo Andersen and me snuggled on our couch in our house with our little children tucked safely into bed.

“That’s correct.”

“I’m not sure how you call that a curse, but go ahead,” I said to him. I wasn’t sure how he planned to pull this off, but I was much more interested in this conversation than the stupid paper anyway. “What’s stopping you.”

“First, is it your greatest wish to be married to Mary Jo Andersen?” he asked me.

Now I was taken aback. How did he know that? “Who are you again?” I asked him.

“That’s not important. Is that your greatest wish.”

“Well, y-yes,” I stammered. I wasn’t exactly used to having it in the open like that.

He pushed a tablet under my nose with some writing on it. “This says that marrying Mary Jo Andersen is your greatest wish. If so, please press your thumb in this box.” He pointed to a red box and I pressed my thumb into it.

“This says you understand that I have told you granting this wish is a curse. If you understand, put your thumb here. This says I have not coerced you in any way to accept this curse. This says you accept full responsibility for any consequences that come from this curse.” I dutifully pressed my thumb in each box. Something whirred and he handed me a piece of paper. “Here’s your copy.” Then he vanished, just like that.

Before I could even wonder where he’d gone I heard her voice. “There you are, Alex. I’ve been trying to find you everywhere.” Mary Jo slid into the seat next to mine, leaned against my arm, and practicallly purred like a cat. My eyes were drawn to the enormous diamond ring on the fourth finger of her left hand.

“I just got off the phone with mother,” she said. “She’s fine with the date so we can start our planning. Now you know, Mother is going to want a lot of people. Her invitation list will easily number 300.” My dreams of a small, intimate wedding looked lost.

“Also, Daddy wants you to call him. He wants to talk about hiring you into his firm as soon as you graduate. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“But, Mary Jo, I’m an architect. Your father owns a hedge fund.”

She pouted. “Why the formality. I love it when you call me ‘bunny.’”

Already my words were coming back to me. “I’m not sure how you call it a curse.”