There it was again. That stupid box. Ever since I'd started walking past Anna's Antiques two months ago after I totalled my car, I'd seen this little box sitting in the window of a storefront display. Several golden figurines of dragons in various poses sat around it, almost as a guard. Shimmering carpets were hung around it, blocking the interior of the shop from view. I'd never cared about them. But that box. It...whispered to me...through the window.

This is was probably the fortieth time I'd walked by that window. As I walked past it my eyes, as they always did, snapped to that little box. It was mostly brown, but the corners of it had started darkening, almost turning black as through it was in a fire. Two pieces of twine tied the box shut tightly, keeping its wooden lid firmly in place.

I thought I could hear it again. As though it were whispering my name through the glass.

"Cameron..." it seemed to say. "Come to me...open me..."

I looked at the price tag, as I always did. $10,000. It's no wonder nobody had bought it.

My phone chimed, so I tore my eyes from the box to read the message from my boss.

James: Not enough work today. Stay home. We'll pay you half time

I tapped a quick reply to him and my eyes went back to the box as I slid my phone into my pocket.

What could going into the shop hurt now? I'd never been inside before.

When I passed through the front door of Anna's Antiques, I felt as though I'd stepped outside on a bitterly cold winter day. Gooseflesh immediately erupted over my entire body and I started shivering at once.

"Hello?" I called out into the shop. No answer.

I walked around the shelves packed with items; old scrolls, little figurines, amulets, jewels, shawls, and things I had no name for. Still, that box whispered my name. Now that I was in the shop, it was more insistent. Maybe if I could find a shopkeeper, I could convince them to let me look in the box.

When I got to the counter, I realized nobody was there. A door stood open behind the counter and the small room was empty.

"Hello?" I called out again and my voice seemed to echo back to me in the shop.

I decided to circle around and head to the window display, where I saw the box sitting there. The closer I got, I seemed to feel a heat emanating from it.

What could it hurt to pick it up? I reached out and grabbed the box, lifting it easily. It felt empty. I gave it a little shake and nothing rattled inside.

"Run!" the box screamed at me. "Take me and run!"

I realized the voice wasn't in the air. I didn't hear it with my ears. I could hear it with my mind.

"RUN!"

I bolted, tucking the box under my arm and heading out the door. As I ran down the sidewalk, I looked back and what I saw stopped me in my tracks.

Anna's Antiques was gone. Stunned, I walked back to the spot where the shop had been, my heart pounding a furious tattoo in my chest. It was a blank brick wall. I reached out and ran my hand over the spot where the door had been only moments ago.

"Good job," said the box. "You've done very well."

I ignored it and started heading home, but the box didn't stop talking.

"I've been in that shop for years. Nearly 300 years. I've been reaching out to people, but you're the first to have heard me."

When I get to my townhouse down the block, I fumbled with my keys, the box under my arm. It slipped from my grip and landed with a heavy thud. Much too heavy for an empty box.

"Hey, watch it!" said the box, outraged.

"I'm sorry," I said, then realize how stupid it was to talk to a box. Clearly I was dreaming. Or going crazy.

When we got inside, I set the box on my kitchen table and just stared at it. Ten seconds passed. Then twenty. Then thirty.

"Well this is fun," said the box in a sarcastic voice.

"What's happening to me?" I asked it. "Am I going crazy?"

"No, kid, you're not."

"Kid? I'm twenty-one years old," I thought.

"You think that matters to me? I'm 7,000 years old. Every human alive is a kid to me."

"Wait, you can—"

"Hear your thoughts? Yeah," said the box.

"What...who...are you?"

"Open the box, and I'll show you."

I reached out with trembling fingers and gripped the knot at the top of the twine. A simple pull on the ends of the bow undid the knot and the twine fell away.

"Go on," the box said, "pull the lid off."

I grabbed the lid, pulled it off, and looked inside.