Shopping in an antique store for something to house a collection of books for blue kid, The Skimmer and I found the perfect wooden box. Old, with a heavy metal latch and beaten up just enough to give it character. It felt like it had a story.
The Skimmer was worried it was a scary ghost story.
I convinced him it was a good box. Way more full of light than darkness.
As we left the store I was carrying the box and noticed a sticker stuck to my hand. It said:
Scary perfect in its own special way.