Little Brown Box

The night was dropping. After those long hours at work, he has indulged himself in front of the flashing reality televisions with beers just like every day. His mind was screaming exhaustion, yet he couldn't move away from the couch. A sense of anger rose from nowhere and soon disappeared in frustration. He was sick of himself for being such a loser.

In the end, he stood up and moved away from the coach. He was reluctant to turn off the tv, although it no longer excited him. He left it on and headed for the bathroom. He stopped by and turned off the light as he grabbed a blanket and headed back to the couch. But when he got back, he couldn't move.

There was a delicately wrapped brown paper box sitting right in the middle of his brown couch. A small pink bow with a letter on top. Something about it smelled like a woman, but he couldn't move.

Something unusual struck his senses.

Someone was still in the house. He gulped, chills rushing down his spine.

He took a second to collect himself. He was certain that someone was right behind him. Adrenalin rushed through his head; his ears were ringing the pounding heartbeat. He turned back.

But there was nobody.

****

After thoroughly searching his room, he couldn’t find a trace of someone breaking in. Rechecking all the doors and windows, he was relieved. It was madness. Maybe he was too tired to remember he put it there, or maybe it wouldn’t be there when he returned.

The little brown paper box was still there, sitting on his brown chair. A flashback of the strange feeling he had when someone was standing right behind him, he shook his head, trying to get rid of that feeling.

Maybe he had too many beers. Who knows?

It’s time to check the box. Maybe it was an old gift. He picked it up and sat back into the coach. It was a delicately wrapped little box with a lace bow and the smell of intoxicating perfume. Closely to his nostril, he took a deep inhale. It must have been an intoxicating woman, to begin with. However, it still didn’t ring any bells.

He took the letter off the box: I love you, Rick.

Who’s Rick?

Well, it could be a wrongfully delivered box; who knows? He might have picked up from his porch and didn’t remember.

Suddenly, he had no interest in finding out what was inside the perfectly wrapped little brown box. Some other man’s girl business. Got nothing to do with him. It could just be some girly thing.

Although he really should’ve opened it, he tossed it aside, wrapped himself in a blanket, and fell asleep to reality TV.

Nothing happened that night. He woke up feeling like crap, just like any other workday. He freshened himself up and took the little brown box, and tossed it into the dumpster on his way to work. Time passed slowly and quickly at the same time. Sometimes he barely paid attention to those little things. Before he knew it, he was at another meeting at 3 pm, drifting apart, falling in and out of sleep while pretending he was listening.

Suddenly, he was fully awake.

The man across the table pulled out the similar-looking little brown box with a pink bow and a letter on top. The familiar smell of perfume has traveled through the air, across the table, and woke him up. He stared at the brown box as the man checking out the box with confusion, squishing the letter in his hand and putting it aside, unwrapping the bow tie.

Like looking into a mirror, he was suddenly nervous and sweating all over his head. A similar ringing in his ears appeared out of nowhere, with the chills sending down to his spine. He remembered something...something from far away, buried in the memory.

He suddenly recognized the smell. It was familiar. He saw a pair of leather high heels knocking on the ground. He remembered the person who wore the perfume passing through him on the street. She looked at him. An unexplainable smile emerged from her red lips.

****

He was shocked and confused. With his eyes completely fixated on the box in that man’s hands, unwrapping seemed slow motion. Every second was heavier than concrete. He couldn’t move his eyes or afford to blink.

Eventually, the box was unwrapped, and there it was, an old, cracked lipstick. Nothing too fancy. The man closed it up and tossed it in the trash by his feet.

He was somehow disappointed and filled with disbelief. There was something off about it, and he knew it in his bones, although he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was.

Something was missing. He could feel it in his body. His heart ached. The feeling suddenly flooded. Something was missing.

He could barely breathe. He felt himself drowning in the unexplainably overwhelming emotions. He felt like something has been taken away from him, and that deep panic shook his body.

He stumbled out of the office. He felt his nose bleeding. Blood drops hitting the floor. In the corner was the perfectly wrapped little brown box, untouched and still waiting for him.

He reached out to that little box, holding it closer to his heart. There he had it, and he wouldn’t toss it away. He gently took off the letter, and then the bow tie carefully opened the box. He finally smiled with relief.

I love you, Rick.

The little brown box he never sent out has been long lost in time.