Status: Working on Ch. 2 :)
The Box
A little thing in the corner
In a dusty corner in a worn out little shop there laid a box. It had never been opened, never been touched. It was entirely forgotten. No one knew how it had gotten there, nor did anyone really care. It was a box in an antique store, surrounded by a hundred other boxes that were much prettier and many of which that had surrounded it had been sold, some even having been brought back since it had been laid there all those years ago.
Almost sixty years after it had made its way into the antiques shop on what is now known as Alderson Avenue, it caught the eye of a young girl. On her way home from school the girl always stopped there to talk to the elderly owner of the store and even helped out on weekends when her parents were too busy to entertain her. The girl’s name was Annabelle, and she was of an inquisitive mind and curious nature. She loved old things and new things and curious things and quiet things, if even that made any sense at all. She’d seen the box many a time on her ways around the store, fiddling with things and fixing things, but she’d never really noticed it. The box itself was nothing special, it was an old style cherrywood box with carvings on the sides and on the lid, but it had chips out of it all over and was so filthy with dust you could barely make out what the carvings were.
Annabelle was 11 the first time she really noticed the box. She was about to touch it and blow the dust off when the door clanged and her mother called her to go home. She spent the night thinkng about it, but sadly forgot about it because of her most wonderful and vivid dreams that night, of unicorns and elves and other such magical things.
Almost sixty years after it had made its way into the antiques shop on what is now known as Alderson Avenue, it caught the eye of a young girl. On her way home from school the girl always stopped there to talk to the elderly owner of the store and even helped out on weekends when her parents were too busy to entertain her. The girl’s name was Annabelle, and she was of an inquisitive mind and curious nature. She loved old things and new things and curious things and quiet things, if even that made any sense at all. She’d seen the box many a time on her ways around the store, fiddling with things and fixing things, but she’d never really noticed it. The box itself was nothing special, it was an old style cherrywood box with carvings on the sides and on the lid, but it had chips out of it all over and was so filthy with dust you could barely make out what the carvings were.
Annabelle was 11 the first time she really noticed the box. She was about to touch it and blow the dust off when the door clanged and her mother called her to go home. She spent the night thinkng about it, but sadly forgot about it because of her most wonderful and vivid dreams that night, of unicorns and elves and other such magical things.