Tuesday, November 6, 2012

The Box

This is my first attempt at flash fiction. I admit I have a lot of growing to do as an author, but I am pretty proud of this one. I wrote it with some one in mind who is going through a tough time. Please enjoy.

Imagine a box. A non-descript box, just sitting on the ground. All around you, people are walking around this box, paying it no attention. But something about this particular box draws you in. It is almost like there is a force within that is grabbing hold of you, willing you to at the very least investigate this box.

You draw near.

Fear enters your heart. It’s an evil world we live in, and boxes are notorious for their particular brand of badness. Maybe that’s why nobody else is approaching this box.

Brave! Be brave! Approach the box and find out what it is all about. Let the chips fall where they may! And as you approach the box, you see it. Your name. Your name is printed on the outside of the box. Now why on earth would there be a box with your name on it in the middle of this street?

Your fear dissipates.

Reaching out, you take hold of the box. You turn it about, looking at all sides. The only striking feature is your name on it. Your hands tremble.

You sit on a near by bench, and ponder your next move. The box sits at your feet. Again you think of the evil that you have seen and heard of. You truly don’t want to get hurt. But then again, what can getting hurt do to you that hasn’t already happened? After all, life is never easy. Take no risks and get no rewards. To Valhalla with them all! They don’t hurt you; they can’t hurt you…at least, not as much as this box could hurt you.

You don’t want to hurt. You want to be alive.

The power within the box draws you in. Your choice is made. You have to open the box, and let the consequences be damned. You alone make choices for yourself. Nobody can help with this one.

Slowly and fearfully you open the box. You peer inside, relieved that so far nothing bad has happened. You see another box.

Your fear is born again. Another box? Really? But the second one looks so different. It is anything but bland. It shines. And if it was possible for a box to glow, this one could be described as glowing. But there is something else. This one is pulsing. Your curiosity is piqued.

You go through the same fears as you prepare to look inside this second box. As you lift it out, your hands are warmed. The box is radiated a low heat, enough to put its warmth into your skin.

You open the second box. You can’t resist. You gasp. This is not what you expected. Inside the box is….your heart. Whole. Pure. Innocent.

Your faith in humanity is restored. For some kind soul has restored your heart. You smile. Your tears are now joyous. You are complete. You can love. Love yourself, and love others.

All because of a non-descript box.