Wednesday, July 20, 2011

The Box

There was a box sitting on her desk in home room looking so unassuming it made her stomach clench. She'd had boxes on her desk before. She'd learned not to open them. Without even bothering to peek inside the lid she shoved the thing off her desk with her books, being careful not to touch it with her hand, and sat down to await the teacher.

Really, what amateurs, she thought to herself. As if she'd never opened up a box to see something horrible before. As if the curiosity to see what was inside would be enough to make her endure another stupid prank. She couldn't help but shove her nose just slightly upward throughout the rest of the class. She didn't bother to look for someone acting suspiciously culprit- like.

As she sat in the library later on remembering how nonchalantly she'd responded to such a childish game she was startled by a needlessly perky "Hi!"

"Huh? Oh, hey Cybil. What's up?" she asked, unable to keep the irked tone out of her voice.

"Did you get my cookies?" Cybil asked, her bouncy hair doing its characteristic move as she spoke.

"Cookies?

"Yeah. I left them on your desk in home room. Didn't you get them?"

"Damn it!"

She decided to open her boxes from then on.

Not more than a month later there was another box sitting on her desk when she walked into first period. Inside was a dead cricket.

2 comments:

  1. Very simple, focused, worth every word that keeps it so short. Great tiny work, Bev, one of your best executed yet.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Short but sweet (in a way). Hopefully the cookies made up for the dead cricket.

    ReplyDelete

Thank you for your comment! I will love it and hug it and pet it and call it George. Or, you know, just read and reply to it. But still- you rock!