Knox woke up in a box.
<<No, this isn’t a Dr. Seuss story.>>
He could tell because it was a dim, enclosed space, with only a few weak shafts of light filtering in. The air smelled distinctly of musty cardboard, and heaven knew the only place where such an odor might pervade is the inside of an old box.
<<Not that he would know, of course.>>
Rubbing his forehead bemusedly, Knox tried to make sense of everything that had passed, and everything that had not yet happened, and….whatever this whole waking-up-in-a-box-situation was all about.
Speaking of which--
“What time is it?” he wondered aloud. He checked his wrist, but his watch had mysteriously disappeared. The irony of the situation was not lost on him; normally, he was the one ridiculing others when they had the audacity to misplace their belongings. “Things cannot be lost if they are always put in their place,” was one of Knox’s many maxims. Except clearly...