Call
She found the box was always sneaking into her thoughts. At work, the grocery store, taking a walk.
Her mind would slip back to where ever the cursed item was hidden that time.
She changed its hiding place often. She wasn't sure as to why; it wasn't as if anyone would go looking for it. The reason, she gave herself, was that it was safer to switch hiding places; the truth was she wanted the excuse to touch it, to be nearer to him.
It got harder to put it away each time. She paused to look at he box again, really look at it. It was so beautiful despite - no- because of what it really was. The smooth wood that betrayed no joints or lines framed by the shining brass finish, etched in designs whose meanings were long lost to time.
The box had a hold on Kirsty. She could feel it. Sometimes she swore it was calling to her.
Sometimes...she thought she heard his voice.
And sometimes, she was disappointed when she didn't.