The Box (Re-Published)
This short story was posted a year ago exactly. Since it got only three viewings, I decided it needed one more chance.
The Box
I concentrate on being lost, vacant of ideas and collective thought. I stand before a great wall of possibilities. Words, phrases, and form drape like loose ivy down the face of it.
How did I get here? And how do I get back to the box? The box is small, but I remember it holds my clippings of intellect and shards of pellucid writing. I can't stay lost; I must find the box. And if I can take back the best of these scions growing across this wall, I will graft their ends to my abstruse thought. I will create stories and characters and art. And it will have grown from immeasurable treasures from outside the box.
I remember. The journey rolls out behind me. I look back down the narrow winding path. I cannot see it, but I suspect I will find the box if I just turn around. I have wandered too far from the box.
I harvest from the great wall, leaving it standing bare. And I turn, hoping and believing that I will find my way, that I will find the box. I am inspired. For once I regain my place inside the box, surrounded with all that I know and love, I will plant these shoots and cuttings--in the box--and I will cultivate myself into lucid thought.
I have been gone too long. Never again will I think so far outside the box that I lose my way.
Categories: Short Fiction, Mindbenders
Tags: RePublished Storytelling
Today I learned two words: pellucid and abstruse!
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That's great. But did you learn about avoiding thinking so far outside the box that you lose your way?
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