The Merchant and the Djinn of the Well.
A folktale from Tafilalt - unknown author.
There once lived a merchant named Ahmed, a man known far and wide for his sharp mind and his even sharper tongue. One afternoon, while traveling between villages under the relentless heat of the desert sun, his throat felt like a kiln. He spotted an ancient stone well, hidden in the shade of a gnarled acacia tree.
As he hauled the bucket up, he did not find water. Instead, he pulled up a rusted, heavy brass lamp. Thinking it might fetch a few copper coins at the market, he wiped away a thick layer of dust with his sleeve.
In an instant, the sky turned the color of bruised plums. The air vibrated, and from the spout of the lamp poured a towering column of smoke that coalesced into a Djinn, his eyes glowing like embers.
"I am trapped no longer!" the Djinn roared, his voice like grinding stones. "For this, you shall die, merchant. But because you are the one who released me, I will grant you the mercy of choosing how you shall perish."
Ahmed’s heart hammered against his ribs, but he did not fall to his knees. He took a steadying breath, forced a look of polite skepticism onto his face, and laughed.
"How marvelous," Ahmed said, crossing his arms. "A genie! But surely you are mistaken. You are far too large for such a tiny, cramped lamp. It is impossible that you ever lived inside it."
The Djinn bristled, his ego wounded by the merchant's doubt. "You doubt my power? You doubt my form?"
"I simply value logic," Ahmed replied, his voice calm. "I cannot believe it until I see it with my own eyes."
The Djinn, enraged by the insult to his legend, bellowed, "Then watch, and tremble!"
He dissolved into a swirling vortex of shadow and smoke, narrowing and spiraling until he was sucked back into the brass lamp with a sharp clack.
Without a second of hesitation, Ahmed grabbed the heavy leather stopper he had found near the well and jammed it into the mouth of the lamp. He threw the vessel as far as he could into the deep, dark, and silent abyss of the well.
Ahmed wiped the sweat from his brow, picked up his walking stick, and continued his journey. He knew that in the desert, as in life, a quick mind is worth more than all the gold in the markets of Tafilalet.