The Box

Dusting the mantle, I notice the box again. My mind goes to the times you took it down and opened it. Memories of days past flood my mind. Days before my major concerns were making sure your dinner was ready, or your shoes were clean and polished.
The dark mahogany, and gold lock stirred me deep down. A trophy for you, a reminder of my place for me.
The washer alarm chimes and shakes me from my idleness. My focus goes to your portrait in the center of the mantle. You had ordered me to make sure your clothes were ready for you to go out tonight.
I scurry off to the laundry room, knowing my balls were safely locked away and under your care.