Package
It sat untouched and unopened in the corner of Nora’ s closet: a small box with no hint as to its inner contents. No wrapping paper or bow, no labels— just a regular, square, white box with a lid, from Aron.
How long had it been since the breakup? Nearly a month and a half, and she’ d blocked all means of communication. She deleted the phone number and blocked Aron on all social media websites and applications. She even stopped going to events and places where they might run into one another. It was fortunate that they didn’ t go to the same school.
A few weeks after the blowup, she did some spring cleaning, throwing away all gifts and mementos that brought back rare, happy memories mixed in with the overall bad experience of having known Aron her entire life. Gifts were crushed under her feet and went straight to the trash. Pictures suffered at the blades of her shears before she burned them on the stovetop. Things borrowed were tossed carelessly into an old shoebox, to be delivered through USPS.
But she couldn’ t bring herself to get rid of the snow globe; she liked the way it looked on top of her dresser. It was from the young days, untainted by the years that followed.
She burned the letters and notes, though, just like the pictures. Words held stronger memories than anything else. Now there was only the snow globe left to remind her, and she could look at it without getting the urge to smash it against the wall.
76
Fatima Al-Shemary
And the package, hand-delivered through a friend of Nora’ s.
She decided she wasn’ t curious. Not really. Okay, yes, she was, but she didn’ t really want to get into it. Whatever was inside couldn’ t be anything good. Impossible. It was all over.
The package had been there for three days, and no response. It was probably just a return of her own items. Or a nasty letter; Aron always wanted to have the last word.
Or an apology. Unlikely, but the slight chance that it might be was what kept Nora from throwing it out. She still didn’ t want to open it.
So she let it sit for three days, resisting the urge to open it until she figured out what to do.
Today, she got a text message from Sean, the deliverer:
Aron was at the coffee shop this morning. Wanted to know if you got the package. I told her I gave it to you.
Nora replied: Thanks. Anything else? Sean answered: That’ s it. Nora said: Cool. Want to go the junkyard later?