Dream Box
In my closet, tucked away in the corner, there is a box, a Dream Box. The Dream Box is hinged, clasped, and locked with the key lost long ago. The only way in is a small slot in the cover impossible for the contents to escape. Every night, long after my family has gone to sleep, I stir to pull out my Dream Box and slid in more of my dreams within. The only dream I keep in hand is that I may find the key and let my reams roam free until the day I must place that dream in my box, my Dream Box.
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