In the quiet solitude of the night, I stumbled upon a discovery, hidden in the recesses of my closet. A lost white box, unassuming in its appearance, yet brimming with fragments of my existence. It was as if I had unearthed a time capsule, a treasure trove of moments frozen in time.

The box cradled clippings of me, snippets of my past, each one a thread woven into the tapestry of my life. They were echoes of laughter, whispers of tears, and silent screams, all encapsulated within this humble container.

A knot in the stomach, a visceral reminder of the trials weathered, and the battles fought. Each twist and turn of this knot was a testament to the resilience that had been forged in the crucible of life’s challenges.

Goosebumps, like braille on my skin, each one a story etched in the annals of my memory. They were the physical manifestation of emotions experienced, a tactile testament to the highs of joy and the lows of sorrow.

Restlessness poured out of my mouth, a torrent of words and thoughts, spinning the corners of my mind. It was a whirlwind of ideas, a cyclone of creativity that refused to be contained, spilling over into the world around me.

Memories, those elusive specters of the past, flitted in and out of the box. They were pieces of me, shards of my identity, each one contributing to the mosaic of my existence. They were the building blocks of my character, the foundation upon which I had built my present.

Old poems, like forgotten melodies, resonated within the confines of the box. Each verse was a testament to the journey undertaken, a chronicle of the path tread. They were the silent ballads of triumphs celebrated and losses mourned, the lyrical narrative of my life’s journey.

And amidst all this, there lay the silent innocence of what I was, a poignant reminder of the simplicity of yesteryears. It was a mirror reflecting the transformation undergone, a testament to the evolution from who I was to who I am.

This lost white box, found in the quiet of the night, was more than just a container. It was a microcosm of my existence, a tangible manifestation of my journey. It was a testament to the resilience, creativity, and transformation that had shaped me, a silent witness to the symphony of life that played on.

© Beatriz Esmer