Bill Piccolo


“Having been confronted with the enormity of her love, his life was changed  forever.” 

Ned woke up in a box.


His head felt vague and distant, and he had a dull headache in the back, emanating from the spot where his hair spiraled out to the rest of his head, a spot which was now beginning to bald.

He tried to recall what had happened, his memory curling up out of his mind like smoke behind his eyelids, the wavy hazy pictures of his life gradually sharpening. He had been swimming in his father’s pool at night, doing laps back and forth underwater, when the pool lights had suddenly gone out. He could clearly recall being in the middle of a lap, silently gliding through the warm water near the bottom. The next part of his memory was the light of the moon being refracted by the water and the shadows of trees and his father being cast across the pool’s floor. His father’s shadow, long and sharp, was especially clear in his mind. Then the race to the surface for air, which was where his memory ended.


The rest was black, like the inside of this box.

The memory itself, the intense silence of his swim and the way the light fell casting the eerie moving shadows – and the way it was broken off without an ending - now left him fatigued and angry. He rolled over onto his belly hoping that the pain in his head would fade along with the memories if he could just sleep for a few more minutes. Then maybe he’d think about how he could escape the box he found himself in.


Years later Ned woke again to a sound. Opening his eyes, he wasn’t quite sure what it was – then it came again. It was the sound of someone knocking.


All rights belong to its author. It was published on by demand of Bill Piccolo.
Published on on 10/04/2006.


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