Box of Pandora

Photo unrelated to the story
Sometimes I think of it, that on a hot summer day somewhere far away, behind two old wooden farmhouses, at the endless rice field without a brighter future she must have taken the bus on the road to the place her friends told her about. That place at the sea, that place with a golden future. A golden future for her and her family. For her mother who did carry her for nine months, for her father who is working all day in the hot sun at the rice field.

And now I can see her in one of those famous small dead end streets, she is sitting, quite and alone in the dark and air-condition cold box of Pandora. People come in and go out. Nobody sees her. Tomorrow morning she will make merit for a better future. But without speaking out loud she hopes that once someone will see her and take her away from this dark and cold box of Pandora. That person will be the love of her life. And maybe, maybe they will live in love together for the rest of their life. But for the moment she is sitting in that dark and cold box of Pandora in that small dead end street. That same street that you & me have passed by so many times. And for that moment the only thing she can do is dreaming, dreaming of that golden future.

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