I love boxes. Those tiny places to hold a stone, a shell, a secret, a precious little heart. And I have quite a collection. I never intended to be a collector. It just happened. One by one they arrived.
What is the fascination? The possibility that there is something inside, something out of sight, private. The excitement of opening it, perhaps to discover a prize, a gift, a memento, or even to find it empty—a world of possibilities. I simply cannot resist them.
I feel the same about boxes--the promises they hold, the delight of peeking inside them, the remembering why you kept that token...
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