Open up, I willed the metal box. A smooth, six-sided object, it had no visible means of entry, but I was dead sure that there was a trick. Some subtle pressure, or a series of taps; maybe, if I sang it a special song, or shone a colored light on its silvery planes. But there was no time left for solving this kind of smarty-pants puzzle. Picking it up, I staggered to the window and started to swing its considerable weight towards the glass, hoping that a forty-story fall would do the trick. When I felt a panel slide beneath my left hand, it was almost too late.
About Maria Porges
based in Oakland, CA, United States