I said put it in the HAPPY BOX!

That horrible drilling. That horrible noise.
It kept sinking into my skull .. deeper and deeper.
I sat in a box in an old damp alley.
The outside was too noisy, too angry. Relentless.
Screaming just to fill itself. I tired of it all.
In the alley I found some sense of solace.
In the box I found comfort within oblivion.
Yet, my head throbbed, pulsing arrhythmically to the beat of my heart.

The box told me a funny tale
About how its path had become derailed
How it once held within it something of great determination.
How it hoped to one day mark the world with its hidden creation
How it never opened its lid and it's determination rotted inside.
It grew old and callous to the world outside.
It bound itself to the alley.
When it was young it had thought to be bound to the sky.
To this I concluded that through its fear it caused its contents to die.
It bound itself to deformation and decay.
Tiny thin spider legs crept about the box all day.
The box then was silent for a moment and began to cough.
Throughout the night it continued to speak. On and off.

And the box never did shut up.