Box Of Possibilities

Sarah awoke at 6:45 AM to her darkened bedroom and the sing-song of her alarm clock on Tuesday, November 2nd. She groaned as she rolled out of bed and padded softly to the bathroom, aiming for her usual long shower.

30 minutes later her fingers were pruny and her hair washed.  She brushed it back into its usual clean-cut ponytail. Although selling houses didn't call for such a look, she liked having her hair out of the way just in case an unprecedented interesting situation should arise, both she and her hair would be ready. She chuckled a bit to herself for nothing interesting ever presented itself to her in her humdrum day-to-day existence. She woke up at the same time every day, ate breakfast, had coffee, went to the office and dealt with lovely couples buying their dream homes. Although she did love her job most days, seeing her clients' faces when she found them just the right place was extremely satisfying. It also had become incredibly boring of late. She had been in real estate for almost five years in the same city selling the same houses, and for the last five years every day had been exactly the same. She often wished something unexpected would come and sweep her up into a grand adventure filled with exciting people and beautiful places...

The sing-song of her emergency over-sleeping alarm startled her from her daydreaming and brought her soundly back into reality,

Her make up was done, her hair pulled back, and she quickly chose an outfit for the day. It was easily done seeing as how she wore the same thing every Wednesday of her life. She slipped on her nylons and tight black skirt. She reached for a light blue top--Wednesday's usual color-- but stopped just before her fingers touched the soft fabric. She might not have a grand adventure, passionate romance or exciting commute, but damn it she would at least change the color of her shirt. Her hand slid to the next set of colored blouses in her closet and selected a dark purple cap sleeve. It was typically an item she only wore on nights out on the town, but seeing as how this would most likely be the only exciting thing to happen that day,  she would throw caution to the wind and stray from her classic-collared button up. She rolled her eyes at her absurdity. If this was her idea of throwing caution to the wind, her hope of any kind of adventure was surely lost. But seeing as how she had no private jet with which to dart off to a foreign land or an endless credit card to utilize on a mysterious island getaway, changing her shirt would have to do.

She walked softly downstairs  to the kitchen, plugged in her headphones, and put on a pot of extra strong coffee and started her usual oat meal. She paused when she heard a knock at the door.  Who in the world could possibly be at her door at 8 o'clock in the morning?

Inconvenienced by the interruption, she pulled out her headphones to discover just who this  interrupter was. She had made it halfway to the door before she heard the sickening sizzle of an overflowing pot of breakfast. She spun on her heel and darted to the kitchen, sliding in her stockinged feet across the tile floor and coliding with the oven's handle as she turned off the stove. Whew, just in time too.

Maybe wearing purple on a Wednesday had sparked some excitement after all.

Sarah finished making her breakfast, added two vanilla creams to her coffee and sat at barstool Number One. She quickly ate and slowly sipped her morning brew. She stared at her surroundings, wondering what came next. There had to be more out there in the Great wide world than four walls and good habits. But no matter what wondrous things the world might hold, it also held her job and the 20 minute drive it took to get there. She downed her coffee with one large swig, set it in the sink and headed for the door. She slipped on her shoes and coat and exited her house, rummaging in her purse for her keys as she did so. She stepped backwards off the step to lock the door...

Whamp.

She ungracefully tripped over something foreign in her way. She landed flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling of her porch, a view that should have only be seen from one of her rocking chairs. She looked around to make sure none of her neighbors had seen her clumsiness, then breathed a sigh of relief that she and the object responsible for her indignity were the only beings on the street.

She was hoping for excitement, but this was not what she had in mind. She propped herself up on her elbows to examine her lifted-legs' current stool. It was a box, a boring, ordinary brown shipping box. Well, that was the opposite of interesting. She flipped to her knees to examine it more closely and saw that it had no shipping label and no return address. She suddenly remembered the knock she hadn't answered in an attempt to save her oatmeal earlier that morning. She never received packages, especially ones with no name attached... intriguing indeed. She grabbed her keys to open the mysterious, albeit boring-looking box, but glanced at her watch and realized her undignified sprawl had made her late for work. Damn it.

She quickly rose to her feet, picked up the box, and threw it inside. It landed on its side in a sprawl of its own--on much more forgiving ground than she had been allowed. Serves it right, she thought, turning away from her revengeful tossing, but stopped mid-step.  No sound had exited from the box as it had landed which was extremely odd. Odder still was that there was some sort of pencil-drawn image on the side. She leaned in her doorway to get a closer look. It looked like a drawing of a gate with some sort of ivy on it...curiouser and curiouser...

She shook her head to snap herself back into reality. No matter how confusing the box was it wouldn't pay her bills. She stepped back over her doorway--carefully this time--locked her door and sprinted to her car. The box would have to wait.

She hopped into the driver's seat and sped out of the driveway. Normally she was a rather conservative driver, but the ticking of the clock called for much haste...but the red light in front of her clearly did not agree. Her thoughts brought her back to the  package sitting just inside her front door. She hadn't signed for it, but as it clearly was not sent through an official letter carrier there had been no need. But if it had been hand delivered, why was there was not at least a note attached describing its purpose?

Beeeep!

The light was green and her fellow commuters were clearly not happy about her lack of moving. She stepped on the gas trying to focus on the road ahead, but her mind kept coming back to the box. What could possibly be in it that it couldn't be sent through regular mail? And was the person who sent it also the person who hand delivered it to her door? Was it a gift? A threat? A weapon? A portal to a parallel universe? A time capsule? She rolled her eyes at how absurd she was being. Of course a cardboard box that made no sound did not contain a time machine...She suddenly remembered she was still on the road and slammed on her brakes just as the light in front of her turned red.

She rounded the corner to her office, pulled into spot 163 and  put her car in park. Why had someone taken the time to draw a doodle on the damn thing but not to write a name? Why had they not waited for her to come to the door? Why had they not knocked more than once...?

Was it some prank perpetrated by one of the neiborhood's Ill-humored teens? That was definitely it. The damn thing was probably filled with nothing more than silly string and exploding confetti in a can. Surely that was all it was...but if that were true, why was there a drawing of that odd gate on the side? No teen, no matter how bored could have put that there.

She sighed and realized it was 9:02. She was never late so this just wouldn't do at all. She flipped open her visor mirror, smoothed back her ponytail and headed towards the office.

She was determined to put silly thoughts out of her head for the rest of the day. She lifted her head and strode inside with her usual up-beat confidence...and immediately tripped over the entranceway rug and into a co-worker. Thankfully he caught her.

"Thank you, Ryan."

"Are you all right?"

"I think so, just a bit off balance today," she said, smoothing down her skirt

"I must say Sarah, I don't believe I've ever seen you swept off your feet, and truth be told, I hoped I'd be the first to manage it."

She colored a bit at his rich voice and charming air.

"Well, the fact that the lobby rug beat you to it is something I am very disappointed by."

"Oh don't think on it too much. You're utterly adorable when flustered. I'll see you later," he said with a smile as smooth as silk.

She and Ryan had been going back and forth with their flirtatious  game since he had joined the legal department of the company two years prior, but besides chatting during their lunch breaks and sneaking longing looks in the halls as they passed, it unfortunately had never amounted to anything more.

She headed to her office, opened her computer and attempted to work. She looked at the house she was in the process of listing...

Could there be blankets inside the box?

No no back to work...

Pillows maybe? She laughed. Who could possibly have sent her pillows? And why not just send that through the regular post? No, no it had to be something more unorthodox.

She shook her head in an attempt to shake off her stupor. She was at work, getting paid to be useful. She began to write the listing for the house.

This beautiful mid-century modern home sports granite counter tops...Fragile!

What if it was something fragile? No, she would have heard it break upon impact with her entryway. Books perhaps? What about pencils? Pens? Clothes? Plane tickets to Paris? Maybe for two so she could take a certain charming lawyer with her...

Ah ha! maybe the  gate was in Paris! She clicked on a new tab and Googled "Ivy Covered Gates in Paris," but none looked similar...perhaps Rome! She tried there next, as well as every other city in Italy, but to no avail.

What if the gate was a portal to the future and in the box there were directions on how to get there? Yes, that made perfect sense! Something that valuable never would be sent through ordinary mail; what if the wrong person had opened it? No, no it would've been far to risky that way. It definitely would've needed to be delivered by hand...or by drone...or maybe it was even herself from the future who had brought it to the door! That would explain why the carrier had left in such a rush. Anyone with even a miniscule amount of science-fiction knowledge would know that if you ran into yourself from a different time period, the consequences could be catastrophic.

She looked up at the clock. She realized then she had spent several hours theorizing about impossible events and it was 11:55. She leaned her head on her desk. Time travel? Herself from the future? What utter rot that was. It was completely and totally impossible...

...unless it wasn't...

She sat up straight at that last thought She had one hour for lunch, if she left now and paid no heed to the speed limit, she could make it back to her house, open the box and return to the office before the clock struck one. Unless, of course, the package was a modernized Pandora's box.  Then she would most likely be late, of course if it unleashed a plague of unspeakable horrors on the world in that case she wouldn't have an office to return too anyway. That was it. She had to know.

She didn't care that she had been utterly unproductive that morning or that if she left now she'd miss seeing Ryan on her way out. Well she cared about the latter far more than she'd ever admit to out loud, but she simply had to open that box. Oherwise it might drive her truly mad.

She pushed back from her desk, avoided eye contact with all those she passed and walked as briskly as possible to her car.

She sped home--avoided running any red lights, although some may have been mildly pink--and arrived home unscathed in record time.

She opened her door, kicked it shut, threw off her shoes and picked up the box. She carried it to the kitchen counter and set it down, very carefully this time, just in case it was dangerous. She took a very large step back at that thought. All games aside what if it really did contain something dangerous? What if she had enemies she was unaware of ? Well, she had none of those but that didn't mean it wasn't something untoward.

Or maybe it was something grand, like a million dollar check, or a magic bag that was endlessly filled with gold. Perhaps it was a title to a boat that she could sail to the Caribbean Islands where she could swim in the turquoise waters and dance along the golden sand...

She simply had to know.

She grabbed a knife from  draw Number Six, took hold of the box and prepared to cut the tape, then hesitated slightly. She took a breath. She could do this. She re-centered her knife and prepared to slice. She was filled with excitement over the endless possibilities the box held, but another thought crossed her mind that filled her with dread.

What if it was empty? What if there was nothing inside at all? No gold, no jewels, no portals, no Pandora's boxes...and no promise of adventure.

She put her knife down and sat in barstool Number Two, completely and utterly flattened.

She hadn't realized until that moment how terribly bored she was. All she'd done that day was trip over literally everything, commit several traffic violations, and obsess over a boring brown parcel. It was the most out-of-place day she'd had in five years, and, truth be told, it was also the most exciting day she'd had in just as long.

If a brown box was all it took to send her mind off in a million different imaginary directions, then perhaps it was time she had a real adventure.

She tightened her ponytail and headed for the door. She had 141 unused vacation days and it was about damn time she used them. She locked her door, drove to work but this time parked in spot 142. She headed straight to her bosses office, raised her hand to knock on the glass door and  hesitated only slightly. Then she knocked briskly. No turning back now.

"Come in."

She opened the door.

"Oh Sarah!"

"Hi Sydney, we need to talk."

"Sounds serious."

"I'm going to use my vacation days. I'm going to start today."

"I was wondering when you'd finally make use of those. Your job will be waiting for you when you return."

"Thank you Sydney, you don't know what this means to me."

"Oh, yes I do."

She hugged her quickly,  gave her goodbyes, and avoided seeing Ryan at all costs.  If she saw him, there was no chance she'd be able to leave.

She drove out of the parking lot for the last time for over four months and headed home. She unlocked her door and shut it behind her leaning back on it as she did so.

She was filled with excitment, anticipation, terror and amazing indecision.

But there was also a twinge of sadness.  She knew that it was silly to miss a man she'd never even kissed, but the thought of not seeing him for several months was not a pleasant one.

She shook off her melancholy and refocused on her excitement. She turned her attention back to the box on her counter. Seeing as how she was going to have an adventure no matter what the box contained, she supposed there was no harm in opening it.

She walked over picked her knife back up and prepared once again to slice the tape, but a knock on the door stopped her.

Oh if this was another box she really was going to lose the last of her sanity.

She went to the door and opened it but no box sat there, in its place was a tall handsome man with dark hair and piercing green eyes.

Ryan.

She breathed.

"I heard you were using your vacation days, and, well, I know this is unorthodox, and rash and probably completely absurd but the thought of not seeing you for four and a half months is completely intolerable. And as it happens I also have a great many unused vacation days. Would you mind terribly if perhaps I accompanied you on whatever exploration your planning?"

She smiled a bigger brighter smile than she ever had before. All her sadness was gone and in its place was overwhelming joy.

She threw her arms around Ryan's neck and in turn he leaned his head down and kissed her. Finally.

"Can we go to Rome?"

"Sarah, we may go wherever you wish."

She looked forward to a grand adventure with the man of her dreams.

And it was all thanks to a purple shirt.

And a Mystery Box.