Searching the room, in the corner I see a box. On the front, it has the word "junk" inscribed. With a hint of trepidation I slowly reach out my hands and begin to open the box. Taking my time, I open each corner, anxious yet somehow nervous about the soon to be revealed contents of this box. I don't remember where this box came from. My wife, being the meticulous woman that she is would have [i]never[/i] just written a one-word clue as to the contents of it. During the house move, she carefully labeled every box with its exact contents, which is why this "junk" box has me nervous. I don't remember where it came from. We had only been in the house for a month and hadn't had a chance to unpack half of our things. There were other boxes scattered around, but [i]this[/i] box seemed to have a certain presence about it. It seemed to react to my trepidation and intensify because it. With my heart beating faster and faster, the contents were mere seconds away from being revealed...