“That feels good,” I said, and I stretched my neck to get out the last of the cramp. It didn’t just feel good, it felt great, actually. I’d been squashed up inside that lamp for so long. You start to think that nobody’s ever going to rub it again. “You’re a genie,” said the young lady with the polishing cloth in her hand. “I am. You’re a smart girl, toots. What gave me away?” “The appearing in a puff of smoke,” she said. “And you look like a genie. You’ve got the turban and the pointy shoes.”
