She found the box
that had been gifted to her sister
by some god, or other.

Her sister who, in capital lettered speech
insisted that she must never open it.
Even on the days she felt most disagreeable,
most inclined
to stir things up a bit.
She must leave it alone.

Otherwise,
she’d be straight out of the frying pan
and into the fire,
according to Big Sister.

But one day, feeling bored, undervalued,
and shouted at by everyone in the house,
she came across it,
and picked it up,
danced a little jig,
whizzed off the top
and looked inside.

It seemed empty.

Disappointed,
she closed it again
and put it back.
If anything invisible
had escaped
her sister would get the blame,
or so she hoped.

Fingers crossed,
there’d always be hope.