The Black Box
The door swung open. Sarah’s head jerked around; no one there. She breathed, then bit into her lip as the cat curled itself around her legs.
“Get lost!” She pushed it away and edged further into the bottom of the cupboard. She turned the box this way and that, her fingers stroked and searched the black lacquered surface for some way in. She knew it opened, well she was almost sure she was certain. When Gemma held it there had been something different, the curlicue patterns that crawled all over the box seemed more; she searched for the word, intense. There had to be something special about the box. Why would Gemma hide it in the back of a cupboard behind shoes and tennis racquets where nobody could see it?
She turned it over again. “Ah!” Fingers dug into her calf and dragged her out the cupboard.
Sarah blinked up at Gemma. Gemma glared down at her. She snatched the box out of Sarah’s hand.
“You really want to know what it is, do you?” Gemma's fingers danced over the box.
She shoved Sarah back into the cupboard and dropped the glowing box in her lap. The door swung shut.