A Heavy Box

The room was almost cleared out. After nine days of non-stop lifting and carrying, John had just about finished moving all of his stuff to his new apartment a few floors down. There was just one item left in the far corner: a heavy box.

John couldn't even remember where he had acquired this box, nor could he remember what the contents were. He had made a point not to look into any of his boxes during the moving process, so as not to slow himself down with memories and reminiscences. However, in this case, he would have to make an exception. He had tried to move the box earlier, to no avail. The box wouldn't budge from its spot no matter how much effort John put into it, and John was no weakling - after all, he had managed to carry his couch on his back all the way to the elevator and down to his new apartment with no help from anyone else. "What could possibly be in this box," he wondered, "to make it so damn heavy?"

John carefully cut into the tape holding the box shut. When he was able to view the contents of the box up close, he was startled by his discovery: the box was completely empty. John gave another try at lifting the box off the ground, only to find that he was entirely unable to make the box budge in the slightest. Tired from the long moving process he had already completed, John decided to leave the box here for the next owner to deal with. He had moved most of his stuff out, and that would have to be sufficient.

***

A few days later, John was getting himself situated in his new apartment. He had finally arranged his furniture the way he liked it, and was about to sit down to watch a football game, when he heard a light knock on his door. John looked out the peephole. Not seeing anyone there, he assumed the newspaper delivery must have come late that day, and he opened the door to retrieve his paper. However, rather than finding the expected newspaper, John saw the same heavy box from his previous apartment. It was now standing directly in front of his door, and as much as he tried, he could not move it one inch.

"No, no, no," he said to himself.

He was upset at the reappearance of this inexplicably heavy and annoyingly immovable box. He opened a note that was lying on the top of the box. It stated:

Dear Tenant,

This box has been found in your previous apartment. Please remember to vacate completely when moving from one apartment to another.

Thank you,
The Management

P.S. You have been charged five dollars for your negligence.

John hated the management, and was already kicking himself for not moving out of the building when he had the chance. He couldn't think of a good way to explain that he, a capable and strong man in the prime years of his life, could have difficulty moving an old box from the confines of his apartment. Nor could he imagine asking anyone for help in lifting an empty box away from his doorway. This predicament wasn't going away, no matter how much thought John put into it. He decided to go pay the five-dollar fine immediately, to at least clear his conscience.

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This post is part of the Blue-Beta Blog Coordination, a continuing series of content coordinated by theme or motif with posts from Confuzzled of I Keep Wondering, Gromit of The Dancing Newt, Redoubt of Redoubt Redux, Third Mango of Funkadelic Freestylings of Another Sort, and Xanthippe of Let’s Save Our Hallmark Moment. This week's theme: 'A Heavy Box'.