Box of Pandora

Sometimes I think of it, that on a hot summer day somewhere far away, behind two old wooden farmhouses, in the endless rice fields without a brighter future, she must have taken the bus on the road to the place her friends told her about. That place at the sea, that place with a golden future; a golden future for her and her family. For her mother who carried her for nine months, for her father who is working all day in the hot sun in the rice fields.

And now I can see her in one of those famous small dead end streets, she is sitting, quiet and alone in the dark and air-conditioned cold box of Pandora. People come in and go out. Nobody sees her. Tomorrow morning she will make merit for a better future. But without speaking out loud she hopes that for once someone will see her and take her away from this dark and cold box of Pandora. That person will be the love of her life. And maybe, maybe they will live in love together for the rest of their life. But for the moment she is sitting in that dark and cold box of Pandora in that small dead-end street, that same street that you and I have passed by so many times.

And for this moment the only thing she can do is dream, dream of that golden future.

-Chang Noi-