The Dragon Box: Fantasy

The elaborately carved lid of the mahogany box made him pause for a moment before opening the box. He ran his fingers over image of the dragon on the lid. He had wanted to do this for so long. But anytime he'd reached for the box, his grandfather had made him put it back, not touch it. "It's bad," the old man had said, his brows beetled above a fierce black stare. "Do you understand me? It's bad, don't touch it." The same words his grandfather had used when he'd reached towards the hot stove. It's bad; don't touch it. That time, the old man had been right. But what harm could be contained in such a beautiful box? The old man had lived too much of his life in fear of the evils of the modern world. He'd snorted, when as a teen-ager the man had asked to get cable. It's bad, he said. Don't touch it.