A small wooden tea chest, painted Prussian blue, with a few holes punched in the lid.
“Terrific birthday present,” she thought, circling warily round it.
It was sealed with staples that would take forever to extract, if you wanted to try. Which she didn’t.
What would have been wrong with flowers? A box of chocolates maybe.
A neighbor moved it to the cellar for her, and she forgot all about it. Including the man who had sent it.
Inside the chest, his heart beat on for a day or so.
The tiny Prussian blue velvet box, holding a sparkling solitaire diamond, slipped from his pale fingers.
And finally he remembered: she never had been curious. At all.
- Copyright: © 2010 Sandra Crook
- Published October 2010 by microhorror.com