The Fourth Wish
Content Warning (click to expand)
assholes
by Kyle Aisteach
Ximena stands behind the counter, stabbing at her tablet with a stylus and muttering quietly to herself in three languages. The air conditioning is hardly keeping up, and a fly flirts with the ceiling fan over the vacant host station. The only customer is a man who doesn’t live around here, dressed in a suit that costs more than Ximena takes in in a typical month. He is nursing a tall coffee and the remains of steak & eggs in the booth to the left of the exterior door.
The exterior door chime goes off and a blast of hot air wafts in. Ximena arches an eyebrow as two men in cheap, black suits enter and step up to the man who doesn’t live around here. They both flash badges. “We’d like to have a word with you.”
The man who doesn’t live around here shrugs. “I don’t know what else I can tell you. There’s nothing illegal about any of it.”
The two men in black suits sit down across from him, the red vinyl creaking as they slide in. The one by the window is bigger, the one closer to the counter is young. “We still can’t identify the source of your income,” Big says.
“I declared it.” The man who doesn’t live around here takes a sip of his coffee.
Young says, “You reported it as ‘leprechaun gold.'”
The man who doesn’t live around here nods. “The law says I have to identify the source of all income. That’s what it is so that’s what I put.”
“We’re authorized,” Big says, “to take you into custody if you don’t start cooperating.”
The man who doesn’t live around here wears an old-fashioned smartwatch. He touches it and it starts ringing. A voice answers, “Victor Derryberry.”
“You’re on speaker,” the man who doesn’t live around here says. “Two federal agents just interrupted my lunch and are threatening to arrest me again.”
“Ask them to show you the warrant,” the voice on the phone says.
“My lawyer would like you to show me your warrant.”
Big fiddles with his sleeve, as if the wearable isn’t the one he’s used to, and Doesn’t Live Around Here’s watch beeps to acknowledge the file.
“This warrant isn’t valid,” the voice on the phone says. “The probable cause affidavit was sworn based on speculation, not evidence. If you arrest my client based on this, we’ll have cause against both the federal government and the individual agents involved.”
“Patch me into this call, off speaker,” Big says with a glance in Ximena’s direction. Ximena folds her arms and gives them her we-don’t-want-trouble stare.
The man who doesn’t live around here taps his watch again, and Big grunts into his earpiece.
“Hey,” a squeaky voice whispers from beside the man who doesn’t live around here. A tiny creature, monkey-like but without a tail and with bright ginger fur, stands on the bench next to the man who doesn’t live around here, its nose barely reaching the table. “I can make all this go away. You just need to make a fourth wish.”
“I know the deal,” the man who doesn’t live around here says.
“Who are you talking to?” Young asks.
“The leprechaun,” the man who doesn’t live around here says. “Only the pure of heart can see him unless he wants them to see him. If he gets me to make a fourth wish, I lose the other three, which means I would never have had the money you’re so worried about.”
“Is that so?” Young asks.
Big grunts into his earpiece again.
“I told you,” the leprechaun says, “money only brings problems. Best to just make the fourth wish and let us have it back.”
“And I told you,” Doesn’t Live Around Here says, “that you’re free to go back to your people any time. I’m not keeping you here.”
“I can’t go back until I get the gold back,” the leprechaun says. “It’s supposed to refill for us, not for mortal men. I’m an outcast until you make your fourth wish.”
“Your rules, not mine,” the man who doesn’t live around here says.
“What’s he saying now?” Young asks.
“Still trying to convince me to make a fourth wish.”
“So how’s that work?” Young asks. “Does he just hang around waiting for you to say, ‘I wish…’?”
“Well, part of the deal,” the man who doesn’t live around here says, “was that I’m not allowed to reveal the exact wording I used to get around those tricks, but that’s what they’d normally do, yeah.”
“I see,” Young says, nodding skeptically.
Big grunts again. “You do that. You get the judge on the line.”
“You had a great life before,” the leprechaun says to the man who doesn’t live around here. “It can all go back to the way it was. Here, I’ll stand on your hand and you just say, ‘I wish…'”
The man who doesn’t live around here folds his hands in front of his chin. “I pay my lawyer enough that I’m confident he’ll sort this. Funny thing about having an endless supply of money. It solves more problems than it causes.”
“So where does it come from?” Young asks. “You spend money, and the next day, your balance is exactly where it was before you spent it.”
“Leprechaun gold,” the man who doesn’t live around here says. “The only hard part is keeping track of how much got generated so I make sure to pay taxes on it. My accountant is really well paid, too.”
Big roars and taps his earpiece. The tiny blue light on it goes out. “All right, we’re out of here.” He slides across the bench and bumps Young out of the booth. “But we’ll be back.”
“I’ve got my lawyer on speed dial when you do,” the man who doesn’t live around here says.
The agents storm out of Ximena’s. The blast of hot air from outside marks their departure.
The man who doesn’t live around here takes another bite of his steak.
Ximena comes around from behind the counter. She plunks a shot glass on the table in front of the leprechaun and fills it with a splash of coffee from a steaming carafe. “Coffee’s on the house is you’ll listen to two pieces of advice,” she says, “from experience.”
The leprechaun twists and tilts its head to look up at her, his ginger brow furrowing.
Ximena doesn’t wait for a response. She points a finger straight at the leprechaun. “If you wait around for your ex-boss to do right by you, you never move on.”
“But I can’t go until he returns the gold!” the leprechaun whines.
Ximena half shrugs and cocks her head. “I didn’t say the ex-boss will do right. I said the opposite. He’s never going to, and you only start moving on when you accept that and move on.”
“But I can’t ever go home!”
“Then that’s not your home and it never was,” Ximena says with finality. “You find the people who will take you broke, and that’s home.”
The leprechaun grimaces.
The man who doesn’t live around here smirks.
Finally, the leprechaun asks, “What’s the second piece of advice?”
Ximena nods. “If the glass is too hot to hold, the coffee is too hot to drink.”
About the author and the piece (click to expand)
Kyle Aisteach tells us this piece picked up 11 rejections before he sent it to us. His work has previously appeared in Cosmos, Daily Science Fiction, and many others. You can find him on Bluesky: @badwriter.bsky.social
©2026 by Kyle Aisteach. All rights reserved. May not be used for A.I. training.