My grandmother had a box.
It wasn't very special by the way of looks, just an old wooden box with rusted hinges and a broken lock.
But it's special, very special. Or so she said to me when I was younger and now, today, I have inherited it.
I have always wondered what was in this old box. She never opened it, but she showed me it several times during my youth.
It's sat before me right now, my fingers trembling over the latch. With a deep breath, I open it.
I'm surprised. Very surprised.
It's much more empty than I always imagined it to be. There's just an old key on a chain and a letter, addressed to me.
Very disappointing.
I open the letter and smile as I see my grandmothers handwriting.
Hello my darling,
So now you finally know what is in my box. Do you remember the old stories that I would tell you when you were younger? Of a man who took me on a journey through Time and Space?
This is the key to that wonderful old box. I always hoped that he would visit one last time before I passed, but he probably never will. So now the key is yours, and if you ever see that old blue box… thank him for me.
Love you always,
Grama
I take the key out of the box by its chain, looking at it in the light from the window.
Its plain, no trademark or significant markings to distinguish why it is as special as she said.
I take it in my hand and frown a little.
Its warm to the touch, not an uncomfortable warmth, just right really. A friendly sort of warmth that I feel like I've know all my life or... that I've been waiting to know
I sigh and put the chain over my head, holding onto the key as it settles round my neck.