I turned back to the window. The drones hovered only a moment, then toured to the right to spy through another apartment window like hornets trying to find their way into a hive. Some bored dudes in quarantine were probably trying to score a peep show.

“Those motherfuckers—spying on me again,” I said.

“Who’s spying on you?” Sarah asked.

Sarah was gone. All that was in the hall was a big box full of boxes of Product 19 on its side. I hate Product 19, but she wants me to eat it because it’s healthy. She must have bought it to make up for forgetting the cereal. “How is this my wish?” The genie was gone, too.

I wake up lying flat out in the entry hall closet we never use because we are too lazy to open the door. I’m lying on boxes of Chocolate Peanut Butter Cheerios I had wished into being. There are even some extras to make a pillow for my head. Melted chocolate is streaming out of the boxes like cookie blood. I can hear Maggie snuffling at the doorway.

As you have already learned, I am a quick thinker. Like, how I used my second wish to live inside of the classic sitcom Cheers. Yep. Everything is going to be smooth sailing from here on out.

It’s true that I’ll miss my girlfriend, Sarah, but as Dave Matthews said in a Facebook post in 2018, “What a great ending of a great tour!”

Norm walks over to me.

“What can I do for you?” asked the funnel of incense as it materialized into a small-boned woman in a red Chanel suit.

This yard is fantastic. There’s never a shortage of poo. Piles of poo everywhere. Look! There’s one! And another over there! And another! Oh, boy, how long has this one been here? Poo doesn’t go rotten does it? Nah, of course not!

It was a hard decision. One Marie had to make alone. Her poor, sick kitty couldn’t weigh in even though it was his opinion that should have mattered most. Cancer. It’s a bummer no matter the species.

I turned back to the window. The drones hovered only a moment, then toured to the right to spy through another apartment window like hornets trying to find their way into a hive. Some bored dudes in quarantine were probably trying to score a peep show.

“Those motherfuckers—spying on me again,” I said.

“Who’s spying on you?” Sarah asked.