Once upon a time(my Grandmother told me)
there was a boy
who lived in a box.
(And in that box it was dark and there was nothing to do and the box was small and the boy didn't fit so he slept sitting up and they fed him bread and water and nothing else and sometimes they drugged him to wash his hair and clothes and clip his nails.)
When the boy came out
(after sixteen years)
he had certain abilities
that seemed magical.
(He could hear things near and far, soft and loud, and he could tell metals apart without even looking at them, a talent useful for a chemist or jeweler, he felt that the metals were pulling at him as if he were a magnet and he could get drunk from the very smell of wine.)
I found these talents amazing
(so did my Grandmother)
and we marveled
and chuckled.
(And then the next morning, my Grandmother locked me in the box and said she'd see me in sixteen years.)
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