There once was a box. It packed a toy truck that a mother bought for her little boy for his second birthday. The box was excited to be taken home to see what his life would entail now that he was leaving the boring store.
The boy tore open the gift wrap surrounding, ripped him open, and took out the truck. He ran it around the home for a few minutes, but then he ran up to the box.
The boy gazed at him excitedly. The box got to be a rocket ship that day, blasting off to Mars. Then, he was a time machine, taking the boy back to the days of the dinosaurs. They played for weeks, and each day, the box was thrilled to become new things.
Soon, however, the parents put the truck back inside him and stuck him in a closet, where he sat for years. Eventually, the boy took him out. He was much older now. All he did was put some clothes and items into the box to take off to college.
There, he sat for many more years in the dorm closet, only to be moved a few years later when the man got his new home. Again, he gathered dust as he aged, remembering the time when he could be a rocket ship.
One day, a new person opened his closet and gazed upon him. It was a young girl.
She looked at him dazzled and dragged him out. She threw open all the stuff inside him. He got to be a castle, then a throne, then a tall mountain, and the vastness of space itself.
He was older now; some of his walls started to fold. After she was done playing, her parents took one look at the box with his sags and new holes and carried him out to the curb.
The next day it started to rain. His skin fell apart.
The girl ran up smiling with delight. She picked him up with his sagging wetness and danced together in the puddle. He dripped with tears of joy as he got to be a prince in his final moments before the garbage collectors came and took him away.
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