The Christmas Box...

Written for Quotation Inspiration Contest...With every intention of making Dn. Oscar Wilde turn in his grave!

The Christmas Box

It’s surreal. What a lovely word to start a fairy story with! It's truthfully not something I’m proud to admit, but I had to do it. Even though many are the times when I’ve denied myself. Emphatically refusing point blank to do it ever again. Resisting the overwhelming temptation to give in and do it just the once and once more only. Well once more would be more than enough or would it?

If I did it just once more would I weaken more easily in the future I ask myself? No, I tell myself and honestly believe in my affirmation. Yes I know, affirmation is a positive assertion but I don’t feel like being negative about anything today not even negativity. Isn’t it always easy convincing yourself wrong is right and black is white when there’s nobody listening? Well I did cross my fingers. Did you used to do that as a child? I still do it now, it wards of all evil and reverses lies.Did you know it’s really hard to type with your fingers crossed?

Have I mentioned it was a Christmas present from my daughters? It was given with love, the same as the empty chocolate box. They’re very thoughtful my girls. They know I can’t eat chocolate but wanted to give me some all the same so they gave me just the smell instead.

They’d somehow noticed the disappearance of the old one, though I tried desperately not to bring it to their attention. The new one’s sitting on the shelf, looking at me. I’m pretending to ignore it. It hasn’t got any eyes but I can feel it staring at me from inside the box. I can feel it taunting me. “Go on then. Open me!” It’s really getting me all steamed up.


Did I mention the last one I had sort of committed suicide. It was quite a sad affair though not as sad as when one of the new born kittens died. I had to put it down the rubbish chute which made me cry for around about a week. I’ll never forget its tiny, cold body curled up in the palm of my hand. It looked like something that had crawled out of a dinosaur’s egg and never quite developed. The poor thing had ginger fur, little bulging eyes and made the most pathetic mewing noise. I did every thing to try and save it. It upset me so much holding it in my hand and listening to its faltering heart beat, I think I may well have drowned it in a flood of tears.

I’ve patted myself on the back just now for writing a half decent bit of descriptive prose. They were very elegant rubbish chutes where I used to live before. All shiny chrome tubed state of the art affairs with hinged lids and underground bins, so the poor mite’s funeral wasn’t a trashy affair. I also do really bad jokes very well in case you hadn’t noticed. Every time I put the rubbish out all that came to mind was an image of its stiff little body laying down there in the stagnant dark and all the neighbours piling black bin bags on top of his tiny, fragile corpse. Oh no! The screen seems to have gone all blurred.


How did that happen? I seem to have completely digressed! That’s because I’d rather do anything as long as it’s not the ironing. The last iron I had was very modern, blue and white, and truthfully, completely unwanted. Have I mentioned previously it sort of committed suicide when I was in the process of moving house? It jumped straight out of the box, bounced and made a cracking noise when it hit the twenty-seventh stair. I was flabbergasted, shocked and screamed out loud… Oh Nooooo! Shi! Shame, I’m not very good at typing.
I laughed out load when I put it down the rubbish chute. I knew I was cracking up when I thought I heard it laughing back, though admittedly there was a bit of an echo down there,


This new one looks really spiteful, or should I say spit-full. It’s just burnt a hole in my best dress and I really wanted to go out tonight and enjoy myself for once. I really couldn’t resist the temptation, though cross my fingers, it was quite accidental how it got mixed up with the boxes I was getting ready to put out. The place where I live now hasn’t got flash bins, but they’ve got one of those amazing things that when you press the button it crushes everything.

Word Count:793