Pandora's Box

A Story by Bec

A very short, short story.

“So this is it then?”

“Yep the one and only my boy.”

“Funny I though it’d be bigger…”

“Most people do. But you see it’s not the size that really matters, it’s what was inside that counts” The man behind the counter said. “A real antique this, came all the way from Greece it did.”

“Really? From Greece you say… How extrodinary. How much?”

“Oh it’s not for sale lad, just for show. Been in the family for generations it has. My ancestors would be turning it their graves if I were to sell it, you see the thing is cursed.” The salesman sighed.

“Cursed how exactly?” The young man asked with a strange interest.

“It’s said that any who touch the box will surely die with in a week, that’s why I’s got it behind the glass lad, so’s nobody can touch it…” The salesman eyed the boy suspiciously, “Now what else do you fancy my boy we’s got lots of lovely trinkets ‘ere in the store, we has. Take a look around.”

“Tell me more about the curse, how long has it been on the box?” The boy asked undeterred.

“Forever they say…Why are you so interested in my little box?” The salemen asked the boy wearily, “Hardly anybody knows about it…”

“Pandora was my mother…” The ‘Boy’ said with a smile as he pulled out a gun and shot the man twice. “I’ll be taking back what’s mine if you don’t mind…”