I was told by a voice not to touch it, but I did. I opened the little box of lies.

Someone left it on my doorstep, rang the bell and ran away. I knew it was children with the pointed teeth. I knew it was a dangerous box. But curiosity made me pick it up. The outside was so bland and nondescript that I felt it must be what is inside that intrigues me. Now it looked too small to be a bomb, so I felt safe opening the latched lid. I stood at my doorstep backlit by the living room lights, facing the walkway to the street. I opened the box slowly. Nothing.

Looking inside I saw a small white wormy creature with human eyes. It seemed to expand to monstrous proportions in my mind’s eye, just for a flash. And in an instant it was the safe little creature again. Then there was a small nest of them, several, suddenly multiplying, falling out of the box, dangling on the sides. I tried to pull them all back in, and where my hand touched them was burned. They were burned and I was burned. When I touched them they withered, shrank and died. I put them in the box anyways. As soon as I caught them, then stopped multiplying. It burned me and was painful but I touched each one in the box with my fingertip. They all contorted in pain, looking at me with pleading eyes. “We aren’t so bad. Why are you hurting us?” then I closed the box. I knew just doing that wasn’t enough. Their shadows and afterimages were still on my mind and I was feeling raw and disturbed.

It was a full moon. I took my tray outside and placed the box on the dirt there. I surrounded it with candles. I opened the box and placed a flower in it. I place a droplet of perfume in it. I wrote a sacred phrase in praise of God and placed it in the box. I put a little sweet candy in it. All open to the moonlight. I sang a holy mantra. Then placed one candle in the box and burned the contents in a little fire.

The charred box interior held only ashes now. I left it open to the morning sunlight. Then I closed the box, sealed it, and placed it in the cabinet.