THE ENIGMA OF THE SIX

PANDORA'S BOX

AUTHOR

In the era of gods and mortals, Pandora, the first woman, arose as retribution for Prometheus' audacious theft of fire. Crafted by divine hands, she bore unique gifts, accompanied by a mysterious vessel—the pithos—along with a solemn directive never to open it.

Driven by an irresistible curiosity, Pandora defied the gods' counsel and unsealed the pithos. A cascade of afflictions ensued: sickness, death, envy, and greed. In swift realization, Pandora closed the container, imprisoning only one elusive entity—hope.

ERIC

"Nice morning, isn't it?" Eric said, running a hand through his hair as he surveyed the room. He didn't mind a bit of mess, unlike Hilda, who seemed to despise dirty tables. Despite her efforts the night before, she insisted on giving the table another wipe. He caught her eye as she pushed her black hair away, and she shot him a quirky smile that made him chuckle.

"What?" she asked, pretending to be annoyed, secretly enjoying his gaze. It was a typical interaction with her. Not that he didn't enjoy everyone's company, but there was something different about Hilda. Maybe it was because she confessed that his face was the last thing she remembered before plunging into that week of darkness. Maybe that gave him closure and he opened to her a side that he never showed anyone. Whatever the reason, she made him feel different.

"Nothing, just enjoying my 'future girlfriend' wiping the tables clean," he replied.

"And you didn't even think to help, letting your 'future girlfriend' do all the work. Such a bad boyfriend you will make. Maybe I should rethink my decision about making you my 'future boyfriend.'"

"So you do think about me."

"Of course, I do think about my 'future boyfriend' every day and night. Until I die and until you will be mine, I will think about you, my Romeo," she said dramatically, moving around the room with her hand open. Hilda was kind, compassionate, and clever—someone like him and someone exactly not like him at the same time. At least he wouldn't jump in front of a moving truck to save a stranger unless there is a high chance they both can escape. Maybe that is why he liked her. She was like him but a hundred times better.

"She's fond of me; that much I'm certain about. Yet, we haven't found the time for a real date. Maybe we're avoiding commitment or seeing it as just a passing fling. Or perhaps, she's hesitant to date someone like me, a nobody who was avoided by his own parents. These thoughts linger, a constant ache in his chest, fueling his longing for her.

Being the son of a shrewd businessman may earn admiration in finance, but it doesn't always guarantee success in matters of the heart. If only love was easy. If only she could see beyond  her doubts and his insecurities, and understand the depth of his affection. Every smile they shared only intensified his desire for her. He pushed those uncertainties aside with a smile.                                                                               "Oh, my dear Juliet. There's nothing more I wanted to hear. The words I've longed for have finally reached my ears, and it brings me so much joy that I no longer care if I die." She winced at his last words but chuckled at his playful demeanor. Eric, always the patriarch of the group, presented himself as good, respectable, handsome—the epitome of a gentleman. However, in her presence, he transformed into a college boy seeking attention, playfully flirting with his crush. Eric wondered if anyone else had glimpsed this side of him. No, he concluded. This facet of him is reserved for her. Even if he can't offer all of him, this vulnerable part will always be hers and hers alone.

Suddenly, she was next to him. Lost in his thoughts, he failed to notice her figure right in front of him. If only she were a little closer. He took a small step towards her, and now, he could almost catch the scent of her breath—faintly lemony with a simple, pleasant aroma. Oh, it smelled good...