A Simple Box Essays

1995 Words 8 Pages
It is just an ordinary box. It sits in the corner of the lonesome room, like a cactus on a desert floor, among normal things like a lamp, an alarm clock, and a holy bible. With the box sitting on top of it, I could see the brown perimeter of the bible, like one sees a church steeple in a bank of clouds. The family bible is passed from generation to generation, as evidenced by the cracked leather and brown, rough edges like a cowboy’s face and hands. It is unclear to any stranger why such a boring, plain box would cover something so important. I am surprised this lonely box is not embraced by my family book, intertwining it in its branches and lifting it into the sky as the family tree continually grows. The cardboard box is white; it …show more content…
Like a house made of sticks, it holds together fine until the whole structure is blown down with a sigh and a puff of the wind. I notice that the flaps have folded together perfectly to form a cross right in the middle of the box. As I lift each flap, memories long forgotten shoot out at me, stinging my eyes with tears. The tears continually roll, leaving temporary scars down my cheeks. I had never opened the box, and my whole body starts to shake as I think of times before. The first thing I see is a ratty pink cotton ball. It looks like a chewed nose of a beloved stuffed animal. It has a bell sewn to the end, and the jingles send painful shocks through my heart. The pink is clearly not as vibrant as it had once been, and dirt speckles the toy showing its everyday use as an entertainment object. I set the toy gently down, afraid if I use too much force, it might suddenly spontaneously combust. As much pain as that tiny toy causes me, I know what is to come is a dagger through the heart in comparison. Bubble wrap fills the rest of the empty box, but it does not fill the missing pieces from my spirit. In the center of the empty space is a see-through bag. It is tied in a knot on the end as to not release the depressed and anxious feelings of its contents. I untie the knot, and death entwines around me like an unwelcome black snake. The bag crinkles and crunches, sounding like a bomb in the complete silence. I pull

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