It was just sitting there in the middle of the room for weeks. Just about everything else had been unpacked from the move, but for some reason no one had bothered to open this one box near the closet door that had no markings on it. No "books for den" or "bathroom stuff" written in cheery red ink like the other boxes. It was the mystery box.
It soon became a battle of wills between the two of them as to who would deal with this box. Each morning he'd make a big show of kicking it towards the center of the room and muttering as he made his way from the bed to the bathroom. And each afternoon she'd kick it back towards the closet.
This went on for weeks until one day, perhaps out of boredom, perhaps out of curiosity, she stubbed out her cigarette, put down her wine glass and marched into the bedroom to confront the box.
She grabbed a letter opener from the desk in the little den off the bedroom and plunged it into the box, meeting surprisingly little resistance. Even though the two of them had been kicking this box all over the bedroom for almost two months, it never dawned on her just how light it was.
She tore it open and looked inside. There were a bunch of letters there. She grabbed one and opened it and begin reading.
"Last night was the most amazing experience of my life. I'm not just talking about the sex, although I've never had three orgasms during one romp. I mean everything. The dinner, the play, the flowers."
She stopped reading and looked back into the box. There were at least fifty more letters there. She picked the box up, turned it upside down and all the letters fell out onto the floor along with something red and shiny. She reached into a pile of letters and pulled up a pair of red satin panties. She flung them away in disgust then picked them up and put them back into the box with all the other letters. She taped it back up and brought it downstairs to the dining room and put it on the table in front of his chair. Then she returned to the living room and to her wine and cigarettes.