The Story

There’s a story locked up inside me. It’s inside Pandora’s box. But you mustn’t look inside it. You know what will happen if you do? All sorts of nightmares, or so they say. I smile. The bait has been snagged. That feeling overwhelmed me-you, and you know you want to know. What’s - inside - the - box!

Or maybe you don’t. Maybe you’re not interested at all. Who cares if A story is locked up inside a box. Unless it’s the jewellery box. I mean , you did say Pandora didn’t you?

I did. But I didn’t mean the jewellery store. I meant Pandora from the Greek myths. You know the one. She got tempted by Zeus to open up the box. Come on, you know the story. The one where the young, sweet, innocent girl was manipulated and duped by the God of gods, so he could get one up on Prometheus.

Prometheus - the champion of humankind. He took the clay and moulded us. He gave us fire. And, well, Zeus kinda didn’t like that so he used Pandora. Or at least that’s one way the story might be told. But then again is that the story locked away? Inside the box?

I don’t think so. That story doesn’t quite work for me. Why...? I’m done with the story where Pandora is young, sweet and innocent. I’ve outgrown it. The dress for that costume no longer fits. You’ll need a younger actress to play that part. But if you do get someone else. If you do go with that version of events, you’ll miss the story that is still locked away.