The box was almost buried inside the closet. Maggie pulled it out. It was old, metal with a few dents. It was flatter and wider than an old lunch box, and had a space for a paper label inside in a small copper bracket. There wasn’t a label however. It was an anonymous box.
She was however in her Grandparent’s house. Her last living grandmother had recently passed and it fell to her family to clean out the estate. Maggie was deep in the closet where her grandmother had stored all of her late husband’s things after he had passed. She just couldn’t get rid of anything.
Maggie was tired of being up to her elbows in ties, hats, boots, suits, linens, and liniments. The box was a welcome change of pace from all the fabric. She looked it over. No lock, the hinges weren’t rusty, it should open right up. It did.
The box was full of old interesting things. It seemed to be Grandpa’s mementos. There were letters, soap on a rope, a wooden yo-yo, more papers, ID badges, but most interesting of all was his passport.
Maggie thumbed through it. He’d been to the most unique places! Russia, France, Germany, Japan, Ireland, Scotland, Iceland, Norway, Denmark, Panama, Brazil, and the list went on and on. Maggie’s grandfather had died when she was very young, she had no memories of him and her grandmother didn’t speak of him. It must have pained her to dwell in the past too long.
Seeing this passport made her wish she knew more. He seemed so much more interesting than her grandmother. She never thought she belonged in this family. Her grandmother was into crosswords and Mr. Ed reruns. But maybe she was just like her Grandfather. She loved to travel. And she liked exotic foods. She put the passport away, now wanting more private time to peruse it.
She took the box out to the car and hid it under the passenger seat so it wouldn’t be forgotten or thrown out. She’d bring it up later.