My body was found days later, and I was immediately rushed to the hospital, where I was declared to be in a coma. I frantically tried to reverse my wish, but realized with a panic that the stone had slipped from my grasp. Instantly I was rooted to the bed, unable to move or even blink. I realized my mistake a second after, but it was too late.
I rolled over and ignored the beeping, and carelessly thought the fateful words: My hand cramped as it clenched the stone, which I never let out of my grasp. That chance came when I woke up to my alarm, just like I did every morning. And so the rock waited patiently, waiting for its chance to strike. My pride wouldn't let me be bested by a stone. It began screwing with my wishes, twisting my words around in an attempt to make me slip up. I was selfish, and I think the rock could tell. I wished and wished and pretended I was as clueless as everyone else with my sudden turn of fate. I wished for money and fame, love and health.
I made the reasonable assumption that I had had three wishes, two left now, and carefully planned two perfect wishes that couldn't backfire. My fingers brushed the rock and it clicked. Accepting that I had wasted my one moment of the supernatural, I sighed and shoved my hand into my pockets. Holding the towel up in disbelief, I tried wishing again. I wished I had a way to dry off, and instantly a pristine white towel appeared in my hand, plucked from some mysterious depths of the universe by the wishing stone. I was studying it when a car whizzed by, coating me with a wave of dirty rain water. It didn't take me long to realize the potential of the stone. I'm not sure why I bothered picking it up when it was so unextraordinary in every way. It looked just like any normal rock, small and gray and round. It was a twist of inexplicable fortune that I found the wishing stone.
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