Cheeky Little Repost From 18 Months Ago Under the stairs was where I found it, tucked away beneath a break in the splintered floorboards, and so clogged with dust I’d swear it could choke; only rationality reminded me otherwise. The once beautiful wooden lid was layered thick with grime, and I could almost chart the years across its surface, the many times it had been missed in the spring clean all mounted up, like the rings found in the trunks of trees tale telling their age. Gingerly I reached out a finger, ran it through that coating of neglect, exposing the still brilliant deep mahogany, the shine of varnish that had been untouched for so long. The box itself was quite small, no larger than a sheet of A5 paper, with smoothly curved corners on either side of the lid which was held in place by a silver lock. I blew heavily upon it, sending clumps of dust flying into my face, causing me to splutter momentarily. Blinking heavily my eyes graced upon what my efforts had exposed, a lock intricate and delicate, with a filigree of leaves and vines that wound across each other towards the keyhole. Supporting the box in one hand (and feeling the contents within slide across its base as it sloped) I reached into my pocket and fumbled for the key, blanching as my finger tips came into contact with the old crumbs and tiny dust bunnies that lurked within. Grasping the key I pulled it out, pausing a moment to marvel at how its decoration so well matched that lock, causing excitement to bubble within me. When I had found the key I knew at once it was special. It had also been hidden, stowed away in the secret compartment of my grandmother’s jewellery box, given to me as an inheritance on her death. I had never really known my grandmother. In my blurred and vague memories I remember snow white hair that curled across her head, I remember skin so thin it looked translucent, wrinkled like tissue paper and just as breakable. But that’s all I remember, ghosts of conversation, snippet recalls of her voice, but nothing more. The jewellery box might have held many treasures, but I wouldn’t have known; it had already been picked through by my other relatives before it reached me, despite the fact that its entire contents were supposed to be mine. I had been left with the meagre remains; a stopwatch that had ticked its last, a battered old silver brooch which had once held beautiful blue stones now clutching at the pitiful remainder of two, and a plain gold wedding band, suitable only for the fingers of a man. My relatives, specifically my aunts who had looked after me ever since my parents had died, were only interested in shimmering and dazzling gems, so the wedding band had been overlooked and underappreciated, and neither of them had even paused to wonder why it was there when my granddad had been buried wearing his. But I had wondered. My grandfather had died well before my birth, but I always remember my mother telling me how wonderful he was, how his love for my grandmother had been as strong in old age as in their youth and how they both had beautiful carved wedding bands, and that he had been buried wearing his, and my grandmother planned to do the same. So on finding that ring I had wondered. Not in a suspicious way, my innocent thoughts had gone instantly to assuming it to be my great grandfathers, or maybe a brother’s or a cousin, the knowledge of its original owner lost by the years. It was only on finding that secret compartment, exposed when, by accident; my elbow caught that box as it sat on my dresser, sending it hurtling to the floor where it impacted with a startling crash. The pretty little jewellery box had broken in pieces, and that secret draw had gone sliding on the wood floor, finally stopping as it hit the skirting board. I sat in dazed horror staring at the mess, eye brimming with tears at the realisation that I had broken my most precious gift, fists clenched in frustration as my thoughts taunted me with ulterior scenarios, ones where I caught the box, or it fell on a cushion, or did anything but break apart so easily. I had eventually forced myself to move, collecting up all the little parts, leading to the discovery of that secret compartment, and the key, and a tiny little note that simply said ‘I will love you until the end of time itself’.