The Little Blue Box

Jim breathes in another sip of his coffee, baring hazelnut and cherry undertones. His favorite brew. “Mmmmmm.” He smiles while imagining himself in the mountains, surrounded by the quiet environment he craves beyond comprehension.

He has begun to loathe the hustle and bustle of the city and the anxiety that has begun to swarm his mind every waking minute of the day. He worries for his sanity that has seemed to be consumed by the frustration and worry that comes with the lack of financial stability and failed trust he has gained while in the city. His little furry companion Ronnie seems to be his only friend, aside from the few coworkers he sees throughout the halls of his cubicle surrounded scenery at his dead end job. His simple cup of coffee gives him a simple minute of peace.

Lightly placing his purple mug back up to his lips, he hears a faint buzzing coming from the thin air above him. Wafting his hand past his face, he assumes a bee has entered his kitchen. However, he quickly realizes the sound is coming from his front door.

“What in the world?” Quickly gracing his mug down on the counter, he rushes over to the peep hole and glances out at the rushing city beyond his front door. “What?”

Confused, he flings open the door. He is greeted by a drone that seems to be staring into his very existence. A small blue box dangles from one of its legs. The little blue bow, that surrounds it’s cute little body, swings a small note before Jim’s eyes that he is unable to read due to the horrendous amount of wind created by the small electric mailman. Instant anxiety floods his shoulders as the little blue box falls to the ground and the drone floats away. He peers down at it, afraid to pick it up. “For you.” It says.

“For me?” He asks aloud.

Ronnie barks from behind Jim, showing just as much worry and curiosity as his best friend.

“I know Ronnie. What could it be?”

Closing the door, he walks away from it just as quickly as he comes back to it. What could be in it? A venomous insect? A virus? A small button that, if he pushes, could blow up the whole neighborhood? He can’t bring himself to open it.

The amount of curiosity that has entered his mind is beginning to frighten him. That little blue box could hold something so simple but so dangerous at the same time.

“Should I open it?” Jim asks Ronnie.

Ronnie simply stares up at Jim, tilts his head at him and then glances over at the small little box that still sits on their doorstep.

“What are you waiting for?” A man calls at Jim from across the way.

“I don’t know what it is.” Jim calls back.

“Well, open it.” The man answers.

Jim stands in silence looking at the box.

“What if it’s a love letter?” The man giggles and slowly walks away leaving Jim even more concerned.

“A love letter?” He whispers to himself as he glances back at Ronnie. “From who?”

Ronnie barks up at Jim shaking his little tail. The little Pomeranians' ears perk up in excitement.

“No.” Jim shakes his head and picks up his broom. To ease his worry, he tries to rationalize the situation by doing house chores all while trying not to look at the little blue box that still sits on his front porch - as if it is staring at him. Mumbling incoherently to himself, he scrubs the dishes, takes out the garbage, mops the floor, and even cleans the toilet - something he despises doing even though he knows it needs to be done.

He pauses in his living room and so does his incoherent babbling. The little blue box seems to glance up at Jim and almost whispers to him. “Why won’t you open me Jim? Are you….afraid?”

“No.”

“Then what are you waiting for, Jim? It’s easy.”

Jim picks up Ronnie and begins to hyperventilate. “Ronnie. What should I do?” Ronnie barks at Jim and licks him on the cheek.

“Okay. I’ll just do it. It’s just a box. It’s easy. Right?” He places Ronnie down, slowly approaches the little blue box, and picks it up. Taking a deep breath, he cautiously pulls off the blue ribbon.

“Okay.”

He flinches and screams as he quickly pulls off the lid. However, there is no explosion or poisonous insect. “A gift card?”

A coffee shop gift card sits in a cozy spot in the little blue box. A small note sits below it that reads, “Thank you for always being so kind. I hope you’re having a wonderful day. -Tony.”

Jim shyly smiles in awe looking at his gift. “That was so nice.”