The Box

I had a box. This box was full of things 'handed over and forgotten about'. It was a useful box. Two years of things written. The good, the bad and the ugly.

I burnt it.

It was always destined to be burnt. And I was glad that I managed it. I opened most of the bits of paper and skim read them. I would have been there for hours if I had have fully read them. They were interesting. They brought back memories. But I am glad I burnt it.