The Box I stood in my parent’s basement in front of my mother’s aging washing machine whichever making loud disturbing sounds crackling noises, waiting on a load of dirty laundry. Late morning light filtered in through a small rectangular window exposing irritating dust and specks of invisible dust hanging in the air and slowly tumbling like tiny flies. The machine shimmied like a hula dancer and then with a dramatic ka-klunk, it whirred to an abrupt stop. I transferred the clumps of sodden clothes to the dryer, then took a panoramic look around the old rusty basement. The house is nearly 200 years old hard to Believe. My parents have lived here since they were married 52 years ago. A lot of stuff and old possessions has passed through the doors of this house and our lives in that time and most of it had apparently ended up here. I wandered to the far end corner of the basement to snoop around and see what of my things my parents had saved. Anonymous brown old soggy boxes were stacked upon and underneath the old cabin table. A garment bag hung from a nail and next to that, stood the dresser from my childhood bedroom which was filled with my tiny toys and clumsy times. Collectively, it composed an odd sort of old record arrangements, and in the absence of light, an eerie study in silent gray. A dim bulb hung from the ceiling. I reached up and grabbed the short chain sharply downward. Bright light strucked the space instantly changing everything from gray to dead yellow. I pepped my eyes. I scurried desperately as I saw a tiny creature crawling right on my nose i paused for a Minute and ran. The boxes has no interest to me, and the garment bag? Prom dresses? Boy Scout uniforms? I thought i did not know. But the dresser that caught my interest the most. Somewhere along the way, it had been white but looked quite cracked up to me . It looked small.tiny, And cheap. I remembered as it strucked me it being a much bigger and heavier piece of furniture. I recalled standing on the chair of the bottom drawer to reach the top. Which explained why some of the pulls were missing as I laughed. I wondered on a middle drawer with some despite, not knowing what I would found in there might be treasure might be something amazing possibly. That’s the funny thing about my parents house. Every cabinet and drawer is a surprise, a grab bag, an odd collections of odd and unrelated items. The drawer squealed dryly and resisted my pull, unwilling to upon until finally it gave up itself up and released, pushing me back on my heels and falling. Inside the drawer was not a collection of my childhood or anything familiar at all as i wondered there for a minute. But a yellowing Christmas box that I had never seen before, not ever that made me wonder curiously. I carefully lifted the old box from the old drawer. It had a bit of weight to it. It smelled pleasantly delightful by delightful i mean it smelled horrible. I slowly and evenly lowered the fragile box to the floor as though it were a sleeping baby. And for reasons that I do not know, I patted it as though in blessing and I smiled with delight THE END