Written for The Challenge
|Prompt: You find a package at your door with nothing on it but your name.
When the doorbell rang, I sprang up from my position on the floor where I had been exercising. I raced to the door and opened it, but there was nobody there. Then I glanced down and saw a package on the welcome mat.
It was slightly bigger than a shoebox and wrapped in plain paper. My name was written in black marker across the top.
I stared at the package wondering what to do. Twenty years ago I would have picked it up, took it in the house and opened it. Now I hesitated, What if it was a bomb or a severed hand? It could be anything. Should I call the police or would they think I was insane?
With my heart thumping in my chest I stood perfectly still and stared down at the offending box. I wished I had x-ray vision, so I could look through the package and see inside.
I told myself to calm down and considered my options. I was not calling the police and making a fool of myself. After all, who would leave a bomb or a severed hand at my door?
Determined, I squeezed my eyes shut, picked up the package and took it inside. I set it on the table and took a deep breath. I carefully began to open the box...