It's the usual day with an expected yet unexpected delivery of my purchased item online. I ran down the stairs without wearing a shirt because who cares? It's not that I'm wearing nothing.
I take it but it's more of a larger sized package as to what I expected. The delivery man doesn't require any amount of payment, so I take a note of it to peek at the package.
Maybe it was mistaken, maybe it was not mine.
BUT MY NAME WAS WRITTEN ON THE PACKAGE
So, I asked the delivery man to take it. I did not order anything that is larger than the size of a sock.
The delivery refuses to, saying he's just doing his job well neat.
So, I let him go and dealt with this package on my own.
If this is what I ordered, I should have paid it but then the delivery man did not let me, so I guess this is not the package I ordered.
Where does this package come from anyway? Who sent this? It must be someone I know and someone who knows me.
I rarely disclose my sensitive details, it must be someone closer, I cannot think of someone or anyone other than my family and relatives.
I checked my phone on all open communicative platforms where I could find someone that left any message for this, but I did not see anything relevant.
I checked my mother's phone in case the message fell in her shoes since I am more used to using her number than mine.
And I did not see anything.
There is only one way to know, it doesn't matter who sent this, if they don't want to be known, I’ll take it as anonymous then, afterall, I respect secrecy and free will choice.
What’s inside this package anyway? A bomb? That's wild, I'm not in a movie nor I have enemies in this life. Well, tons of silent enemies but cannot be this overboard. Bet my enemies can't even think about this risk for me anyway, who am I for them to waste their time right? I am their enemy, is it still worth their energy? No
Maybe it's a gown? I like that idea, perhaps a big teddy bear? Oof I’m heated, I’m excited
There is only one way to know.
No, I should open it to see how it will slander my ideas of what ifs.
I opened it. I found plastic vines on top.
It's a decoration, the fake lengthy plant I used to see on pinterest for room decorations.
I take them all out and they're six vines total in separation with the length of bed sides.
I looked for any more left item inside and saw an apple, a fake apple.
Too big to fit with them so instead of hanging them with vines in the future, perhaps I can display this one.
I held it, it wasn't plastic, it's made of wood, and I like it. Like a tarnished sculpt in detail.
They're free, and I have nothing to complain about.
I hold the box, where should I put them? Perhaps I will just let them sit here inside the box until I will need them for my recreation room.
Before I reached for the items I had taken out, the vines—my house…It's no longer a house anymore.
How come my house turned into a garden?
I can even hear the chirps clear and the shreds of water as if I left the faucet open.
Where am I?
My house furniture and even the box and the vines and the apples are still sitting here with me, but I can't see any walls.
I can't see any stairs.
They all turned lucent.
All I can see is the glass, enough for me to see the full picture of this place.
As if I am inside the glass box, and the garden is in a blown show in front of me.
Luring me in "Don't be shy".
I hold the vines including the apple and return them to their box. Where they can wait for me to use them.
And I am back again, in my house.
No longer seeing the hay view outside, no longer seeing the floating furniture upstairs.
No longer seeing the reflection of clearer views.
No longer glass box
Just chirps of birds.
And maybe, maybe
I am thinking of reaching out for this box for some time.
This time, I will let my head wrap around this delivery for a while before touching them again.
Maybe during that time. I am ready.
Posted on @deintywoodtales (dada on tumblr)
Deinty Woodtales © Amanda A.M, 2023