In Retrospect Anonymous

In retrospect, bouncing out from beneath my comforter as I awoke that balmy seventh of June, I don’t remember feeling so much as a pound of fate’s weight on my scrawny ten-year-old shoulders. Instead, I closed my eyes and breathed in the sweet scent of the first day of summer break and, as was tradition, began in earnest to scheme a summer full of mischief. I allowed my groggy legs to carry me to the top of the stairway where I paused sluggishly to rub my eyes and stretch. As they opened, my eyes locked on a piece of furniture resting near the bottom of the stairway, the very manifestation of my curiosity itself. It felt like more than just an antique wooden cabinet, since for the past ten years of my juvenile life its contents had remained a complete mystery to me. I had been forbidden to open the cabinet since the day I started walking. Having reached an age where my parents had begun to give me certain freedoms, I was quite frustrated at this one restriction. Staring now at the cabinet, I indulged myself guiltily in the fantasy of cracking it open and discovering, once and for all, the forbidden fruit that ripened inside.

After scurrying gingerly down the stairs, I stooped before the uncharted territory of the cabinet,...