Happy Birthday to Me? (Oct 2022)
Special Day
There is a gift on the kitchen table. Even wrapped in gaudy paper of red and blue stripes interspersed with golden stars, it intimidates. The wrapping itself is improbably neat - the paper folded with a razor-sharp preciseness, enveloping a cube thirty centimetres to a side.
There is no tag or card.
You circle the box warily, trying to determine how best to approach it. Reaching towards it and then withdrawing, uncertain and scared. You can guess what the package contains, and you wish to flee it.
You'll have to open it eventually, though. It is your special day, after all. This one was written on my actual Birthday. I got some books, which was nice.