what’s in the box

There was a knock at the door. I opened it. No one was there but a sealed container about the size of a lunch box. I picked it up. There was no address. I shook it. Something moved around in there but I couldn’t tell what it was.

I brought the container inside and sat down on the couch with it on my lap. A little bit of me wanted to open it and see what was inside. But a greater part liked not knowing. I tend toward mystery. It gives me the juice. Once I find something out, I lose interest and want to go to sleep.

My dog Rexy came into the room. She said, “What’s in the box?”

I said, “I don’t know.”

She said, “Can I take it out to the backyard and paw and bite it for a while?” and I said, “Yes.”

My dog Rexy took the box in her mouth and went out back through the doggy door.

I stayed on the couch. I felt the impression the box had left on the top of my thighs.