Grandfather’s box, Speculative Fiction Authors [books for men to read TXT] 📗

My Grandfather warned me about it many times, still curiosity got the best of me. I tried to fight it, but I had to find out what was in that tiny box I was told to never open.

The box was some exotic wood with intricate grain patterns and fit in the palm of your hand; but I'll be damned if I could see a hinge, latch or any other way of opening it. But then it came to me in a flash, from something I’d read from an old text, and I dashed to the fridge and pulled out an over-ripe banana, a jar of mayonnaise and exactly 3 large Kalamata olives.

  I stopped for a moment, looked at what I had in my hands, and had the nagging suspicion that it should be 4 large Kalamata olives and not 3. So I got another olive and closed the refrigerator before rushing the items over to the kitchen table to begin to assembling them.

"What are you doing?" I heard my Grandfather's voice from behind me, which made me jump from surprise. I turned around to look, but as I thought, nobody there. I shook my head and turned my attention back toward the items on the kitchen table.

 I peeled the banana, and threw it away. The peel was all I wanted.

 Then I heard my grandfather's voice again, saying, "assemble the internal portion of yellow fruit, whitish egg sauce and olives of the Ancients in the manner divined of the ages, and then, only then will you see what lies within."

I looked around for a moment spooked. Who wouldn’t be but then I decided that I should do as the voice had told me.

 While I was assembling the items, I wondered why my long dead grandfather was just now speaking to me and why he was helping me to open the box that he'd always told