The Box Suddenly, his cell phone in his robe pocket vibrated. He answered the phone, and heard the familiar voice of a client, a client that held a heavy wallet,
“Mr. Jenkins, how are you?” “Ms. Chambers, it’s good to hear from you.” “Listen, Orson, I think I have to drop the November contract. Well… I don’t really want to say the reason… But I just don’t think it will work out, my apologies.” “Well…” “Goodbye!” With this, she hung up swiftly. He used to be a very busy man, but now, he seemed to be cut off from reality, everything around him seemed dead A six feet young man in his bathrobe was strolling around his apartment living room; he was wearing a hotel flip-flop; his dark green eyes were stern; he kept scratching his neatly combed dark blonde hair; his eyebrows were knit together tightly; his hands were rubbing his temples constantly, as if thinking of something important. There, in the middle of his living room, was a glass coffee table, on top of it was an ordinary paper box ---- a plain light brown cardboard box held together with tape, no address was written on it. It seemed to have popped out from nowhere. Orson was thinking of the day when he found a box sitting on his coffee table, he remembered that he ignored its existence and kept on reading his emails. He remembered one of his clients from Russia made a call and told him that she couldn’t make to the meeting, that was the first unusual call he got after that box appeared from nowhere; his secretory had also called him and told him that all of his appointments with all clients were cancelled, but did not say why, which made him confused. That was the only call he received from his secretary.
Orson made a call using his cell phone to one of his closet companion, but he didn’t answer the call, either he had ignored it or he just simply didn’t hear the ring. He paced around the coffee table, observing the box carefully. The box had been there for nearly a week now, already collecting dust. He recalled every single conversation he had with people before the box had arrived, nothing was wrong and none of his clients mentioned about meeting cancellation; the secretory had said that all of the appointments would be successful for sure. He didn’t dare walk out of his apartment. One thing that bothered him the most was that: how did this box end up in his house? Clearly someone had went into his house at some point, maybe that person was still somewhere near his house spying on him. He was terrified.
Orson took out his mobile phone from his pocket and tried contact his secretary for the millionth times this week; still he had no luck. Normally, his secretary would pick up the phone whenever it rang, especially if it was from his boss. This time his secretary simply didn’t answer it. Shortly after he put down the phone, he received a text message ‘open the box.’ The other day, he tried to call some friends, and got the same result as his last attempt- open the box. Of all people he tried to contact, none of them returned his call and none of them answered the phone; all of them sent him the same text message.

The Box Reluctantly, Orson walked towards the box, he pulled out his hand, as he was about to touch it, his cell phone in his robe vibrated again, open the box it said. He put the phone back into his pocket, extending his hand the second time, unwillingly he put one of his hands on the box; he took his hand back instantly like he had been electric shocked. All of a sudden, fear took over his body.
He was scared.
Scared of the unknown.
He could not bear this anymore. Orson felt a sudden burst of anger; he walked up to the box, without hesitation he ripped apart the entire cardboard contraption, shreds of brown flung to his sides. His phone rang instantly.
“Hello? Mr. Jenkins?” said a familiar voice on the other end.
“Mrs. Chambers! Hey how are you?”
“Yes! Finally reached you.” She said with a sigh in relief.
“What? Mrs. Chambers, I thought you’d dropped that contract, why are you still calling me?” Orson was confused.
“Look, I'm sorry that I did that, and I regretted it. I was thinking about it for the past few days, and I tried to call you to tell you that I want to resign that contract, but I cannot reach you.” She explained.
“Oh… Um…” He was about to say something else, but was been cut off by
Mrs. Chambers.
“Orson, meet me at my office at nine tomorrow okay?” She offered.
“Sure. See you tomorrow then. Bye.” He hung up the phone, going into deep thoughts.
He thought about his deals with his Russian clients. He suspected that it might be another test from the FBI.
Just like before.