31 Days of Amelia

Day 2: The Box in Snow

Day 2.        Involves a simple item that triggers a memory.

My doorbell rang, right in the middle of my favorite scene of Charmed, and I paused the show before padding in my thick, winter socks to the door.

“Who’s there?” I said, looking through the peephole. No one answered, and I couldn’t see anyone though the small glass. The door creaked some as I opened it, and, not seeing anyone, began to shut it again. A package on the step caught my eye. I grabbed it, shutting the door behind me as to not let in any snow or cold.

It was a small box covered in brown paper, the bottom of which was wet from sitting in snow. Soon enough, the string and (now torn) paper where sitting to the side as I stared at the box itself. I recognized it. My fingers turned the remnants of the paper over and over, searching for a return address, a clue to who delivered the package or sent it. There wasn’t one. I sighed, and stared at the box again.

I flicked the small latch on the front open, and listened as the rusted hinges groaned in protest as the bent to open the box. It was empty. I sighed, closing my eyes, and thought back.

“What’s this?”

“Just something.” I smiled, fingering the grain of the wood.

“Any occasion?”

“N-no. Just something for you.”  I nodded. “Listen, I’ve got to go…”

“See you tomorrow?”

“Ye-yeah…”

You moved away that day, and I haven’t seen you since. I never did open that box, but you told me that there was something inside. You never did say good bye. Did you leave that, too, in the box?

I peered into the box, scanning the edges of the inside. A small triangle of white was peeking out, and I pulled it out carefully. The paper was still pure white, smudges of ink huddled around the writing. You always did hate being left-handed. I read the letter carefully, memorizing every word. But the last line stopped me.

My feet skidded some on the hardwood floor as I ran to the door and flung it open. You were standing there, in the street, arms wrapped around yourself and a scarf covering your face up to your nose.

I waved, a small movement, one that you returned.