Mine was a box. Plain wood, coffin like, buried in the cold earth. At first I laid quietly inside, accepting my fate. But the darkness and the stifling air became overpowering. I began to scream, clawing at the unyielding lid, crying for release, praying for divine intervention. But nobody came. I began to tire and in resignation waited for the eternal darkness to take away this cold lonely existence. But it can't hurt to try just one more time. So again I cried out for release in a voice I thought barely audible, weak and exhausted from a lifetime alone in the box. But this time somebody heard. The sound of footsteps approaching. Scratching noises on the outside of the lid. A sliver of light and for the first time I felt hope. Is this my release? Can it really be? Then with a crash the lid falls away and the light of a thousand suns fills my space but my eyes, never before having seen light, are overwhelmed and leave me unable to see. But I am now free, and in my freedom there is happiness. A strange feeling; something new. My eyes will slowly adjust to this wonderful new light as I take one slow step at a time in the world, others helping me, away from that cursed box. The evil ones gather in the distance with their torches and pitchforks, in a frenzied unison chanting for the witch to be imprisoned again into the box of death. The evil ones, calling me a witch. I smile inwardly at that irony as I take another small step away from that cold dark box, never to return.
Sapere Aude
