The lamp wouldn't turn on. Stupid thing, thought Lisa as she slammed her fist against it. That's what you get for buying cheap tat, though. She was a sucker for a bargain, or anything she perceived to be a bargain. There was of course, a vast difference. One time she had bought three crates of dog food from a clearance store.
'But you haven't got a dog!' her boyfriend had cexclaimed.
'Yes, but it was so cheap!' she had countered. This logic making perfect sense to her.
She tapped the lamp again, absent mindedly. Nothing. Not even a flicker. Zilch. There had been nothing wrong with her old lamp, it was perfectly functioning. The old lady who had sold her this though, had spun her some yarn about it being some sort of family heirloom.
"It's practically a steal, at £150' she had told her, 'It's worth at least three times that. I'm so sad to see it go.' True to herseld, Lisa never queried why she would be selling such a personal treasure, no, she merely snapped it up. Nor, did she bother to get a second opinion, much to her boyfriend's annoyance. They were supposed to be saving up for the deposit on a house. This, he told her repeatedly, would never, ever happen if she squandered her money on junk. Her cries that it was 'antique' or 'vintage' never made any difference to him. He'd probably prefer, she go to Ikea and get the same lamp or whatever, as everyone else.
Looking at the pretty lamp, she consoled herself; so what if it didn't work? It's looks more than made up for that. It might be a little grubby, but a bit of polish would sort that out. Stretching the sleeve on her cardigan, she rubbed at a grubby mark.
Suddenly, the room was consumed by a cloud of smoke, as a genie appeared.
"Your wish, madam, is my command'.....