The box

A knock on the door jolted me out of my peaceful reverie. I had taken the day off under the guise of being physically sick. In reality, I was mentally and emotionally drained from my job, from interacting with society, and just life as a whole, and needed a day to myself to recharge. So, I took the opportunity and did just that. I turned off my phone, put on some music, closed the blinds and grabbed the book that I had been meaning to read for the longest time. You know the one I'm talking about. That one that you don't quite remember where you obtained it from, but one day you saw it on your bookshelf and thought 'Oh yeah! I should read this!'. So, you put it next to your bed with the intention of reading before you fell asleep. But months later, it was still there. Mocking you. Reminding you of all the other promises you didn't keep to yourself. So, instead, you let it continue to sit there and stare at you. But today was the day. I carefully chose a bookmark to compliment the cover art, and settled in, cozy under an over sized fluffy blanket. My tea cooling slightly on the table just an arm's length away.

Back to that knock. That knock that was decisive, abrupt, but brief. I listened carefully to the retreading footsteps that lead away from my door. Looking through the blinds, I saw a delivery driver get into the large box truck, and drive away towards the next delivery. I sighed heavily, now thrown out of the peaceful bubble I had created. Grumbling, I threw off the blanket, swung my legs over the edge of the couch, slipped my feet into the waiting slippers, and trudged over to the door.

Not wanting any human interaction today, I peaked through the peephole first to validate the delivery man was gone. Ensuring he was, I unlocked the door to see what he had brought. On my welcome mat, was a most curious thing. A symmetrical, perfectly square medium sized box was waiting for me. It appeared to be without identifying markings, beyond the shipping label clearly marked for me and my house. I picked it up, bringing it inside, and shutting the door behind me. I searched through my memories to see if I had ordered anything for delivery recently and came up with a blank. I suppose I could just see where it came from. Chastising myself briefly, I looked at the return label. And saw there was no return address. None. Where there would be one, was simply a blank, void taunting me with it's mystery. 

I returned to the couch, and sat down heavily, placing the box on the coffee table. My brow furrowed in concentration, I stared at the box. Yes, I know I could easily open the box, and solve the mystery of what it contained. But also, I hated not knowing what could possibly have been sent to me!

I laid my head in my hands, resting my elbows on my knees, and stared intently at the box. You know what? Screw this. I can just open the box, and see what it is! I ripped off the layer of brown paper, scattering it on the floor. Once that layer was off, The box was sealed with a thick layer of packing tape. Using some scissors, I cut threw the layer, and folded back the four flaps of the box.

Under a layer of packing material, I finally found the treasure the box contained. The mystery that had disrupted my peaceful reverie. A small, rubbermaid container, sealed with a red lid. Upon further inspection, it contained a batch of homemade cookies and a note from my Mom. "Enjoy this taste of home!"