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Brad woke up to find the brown, cardboard box on his bedroom floor. It wasn't too small and it wasn't too big; it was about the size of a human head. In fact, that was Brad's first thought. He looked across to his wife, who looked remarkably like Gwyneth Paltrow, to find her sleeping peacefully and still with her head.
Brad breathed a sigh of relief.
The box didn't look special and wasn't doing anything particularly ominous, but the box scared Brad. He spent several moments perched on the edge of his bed just staring at it, as if he expected it to break out into a dance any moment now.
It didn't.
When he was sure it wasn't going to stand up and run out of the room, Brad gave the box a gentle kick, retreating to the corner of the room in case the box attacked him in any way. It didn't, but he remained in the corner in case.
The box still didn't do anything.
Brad began to wonder what was in the box. A bomb maybe, because Brad was a pessimist. It took him a few more guesses before he even thought that it may be a present.
Once again, he looked to his wife. It wasn't his birthday, or their anniversary, or any other kind of special event. There was only one thing he could do.
He stepped back to the box and knelt down. Carefully he opened the lid to see what secret it held.
The box was empty.
This is also a cautionary tale about rubbish endings.
:P
1 comment:
I say again .. you have way too much time on your hands !
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