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Cat-string theory

Pandora’s box placed in clear view.

Bound by lock & key, yet in full display. The tireless, the hopeful … they search for hours on end. They scour through the clutter, all the places, to get a hold of the right key. Once, twice, a wrong key disappoints.

She has it. Dangling from a single strand of burnt gold around her neck, she seizes the key. Should she? They stare at her, as she walks slowly toward the box. Whispers, & warnings fill the air. She regards them with fearful eyes as she slowly reveals the key held so dearly in her palm.

With evident nervousness, & a trace of anticipation, she aims the key toward the lock, closer & closer with every second. The silence, the deafening silence, now broken by the sound of a solid click. A perfect fit. Hushed tones of awe compliment the tension of the moment. Her gaze remains fixed on the beautiful box, carved so intricately with torturous beauty.

The key, held by a chain, stays fixed on the lock. A single twist to change everything. She gingerly lifts the cover, the poetic slow reveal.

Things. They begin flying out gracefully, circling above every creature in the room, like an inviting dance. Awestruck, all eyes are transfixed.

An illusion that seemed so real moves toward her, still graceful, still so perfect. Her hands slowly lift toward it as it nears her. Slowly, very slowly, it dances on the very palm of her hands.

With the same pace, her fingers begin to close around it in delight. “What luck!” she thinks to herself in glee. Around her are envious stares.

It was nothing like she ever felt before.

She closes her eyes, a mixture of wonder & contentment. Her imagination turns infinite … It was an oasis in the Sahara, it was a lighthouse amidst a storm. Like a renewed vow, like lovers reunited. “Star crossed lovers…” like literature in solitude.

& then suddenly, the room is still. Dim, quiet, cold.

She opens in her eyes in confusion, & sees the box in full view, wide open. It is now empty, meaningless. She looks up, only to see the magic has disappeared. She glances down on her hands. Nothing. In it, she holds nothing.

An amount of time saved up so carefully, in anticipation of a moment to relish. A risk took so hesitantly, in hope of difference & bliss.

The lock & key are still one.

But the moment she once savored so delicately, so foolishly, turned out to be yet another illusion. It barely lasted. She barely understood. She only felt.

& it faded to nothing without as much of a warning.

People are foolish creatures. They are mere toys of Eros, dangled teasingly in the eyes of the longing, only to be snatched back in haste, moments before finally being held.