If there’s a wrapped present in the house the mystery of “what-could-it-be?”
is more than Rachel can withstand. The
present calls, it teases, it beckons Rachel.
She tries to go about her business and think of other things but the
present whispers, sparkles and winks.
I can’t hear it. You
wouldn’t be able to hear it either. But
it’s tuned to a frequency that Rachel can hear and it says, “Wouldn’t you love
to know…? Open me and you can find out.”
Ultimately, it’s too much.
She’s only human, after all. The
wrapping paper is torn and the present is revealed.
If only the thrill of the present itself could match the
thrill of the anticipation.
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