Unexpected Connections
I sat on my bed, looking at the wooden box with its carvings and bronze latch closed tight on the chest of draws where it had been put two weeks ago by my eldest son. He had been fishing off the local rocks when his hook had caught on the hinge, the excitement in his voice as he wound the line in, expecting to see the fish of a life time not an old piece of trash, had soon turned to disgust when his mates became amused at his catch. Unlike his younger brother who was intrigued with any trinkets or unusual finds, Archer couldn’t have cared less. He had brought it home and threw it straight into the trash, had it not have been for the water running from the bottom of the apple bin and me going to investigate, the box and its mysterious contents would have been gone the next day.
