The Unopened Box

The Unopened Box

         Barbara rushed to her door, the incessant ringing adding another layer of nuisance to her harried day. Gritting her teeth as her hip caught the edge of the foyer table; she swallowed an obscenity, and opened the door to a delivery boy sporting a grin.

         “Just a minute, let me give you a tip.” Barbara dug through her handbag, finding a crumpled bill, exchanging it for the package.

         Putting the package on the offending table, Barbara limped toward the washer’s nagging buzzer. She ran her hands through her disheveled hair never paying attention to the unopened box.

         Barbara worked in a state of oblivion, trying to finish the work in the hours before she met her husband for dinner. The telephone jingled a discordant tone, threatening to splinter the last nerve in Barbara’s brain. Her cries echoed through the empty rooms. “Will this day never end?”

         Barbara made one last adjustment to her lipstick before leaving for her much anticipated anniversary dinner. She saw the parcel’s reflection in the mirror, realizing she’d never opened it.

         She tore the paper, digging inside the box, extracting a musicbox. Opening the card, Barbara read these words: “They are playing our song.” She sighed as she wound the key, listening to the tinkling love song.

         Barbara frowned when she looked at her watch, then gathered her purse, slammed the front door, and ran to her car. As she opened the car door, an explosion rocked her home, Barbara stared in disbelief as the front door shattered and her house burned. She’d wanted the day to end, but not with her death.

* * *

         The bomb remains an unsolved mystery, a disconnection of dots—a delivery from a dyslexic teen, received by an inattentive woman. The intended victim, at the correct address, is now under witness protection.




Word count 300