The next day the boy woke. A strange silence weighted heavy in the air. The armies were gone. No mob stood at his window. It could have been a dream if not for the desolation and destruction clearly visible from his bed. He tried to rise and found he could not move. Panic. Calm. He called for the Genie. No answer. Panic. He called again. Utter fear! The Genie was gone and he was glued to his bed.
