The box is still there, impishly blue.

He rests his head against the glass, cool and smooth, and looks at it.

He startles, a little, at the sound of a plate being set down, and looks; the cashier's brought him his food.

"Thanks," he says quietly.

"No problem, kid," the cashier says.

"Hey," he says, looking up from his eggs.  "Do you know what that thing across the street is?"  He gestures with his fork toward the blue booth.

Cashier shrugs.  "I bet it's some kinda public art thing," he says disinterestedly.  "Been there a few days."

He picks at his eggs and takes a sip of his soda and looks out the window at it again.

It's still and quiet and waiting.

He finishes his eggs.

He fishes a couple bills out of his pocket and tosses them on the table.  "I'm all set here.  Keep the change."

He leaves, and jogs across the street.

He reaches out and brushes the door gently, with the tips of his fingers, and lets them stay there.

It's quiet, it's perfectly quiet; but he can feel the electric feeling that there is something inside this box.

It says "pull to open" but the door doesn't looks like it swings outward.

He loops a finger, gently, through the little metal handle, and pulls.

No dice, darling.  Sorry.

...pushes.

It feels like it's locked.

"Are you not for me?" he murmurs.  Not whispers, not unvoiced, but low and quiet.  "Should I go?"

He barely knows what he's saying, and he definitely knows it doesn't make any sense.  But.

(It makes perfect sense to her.  But she doesn't talk.  She's a box.)

What is it about this damn thing...

His eyes trace over the words.  They're not interesting words, but he's transfixed by them, somehow, as part of a whole.

(Well, maybe she does talk, a little.  But can he listen?)

"Do you have a key, somewhere?  ...Is this a quest?  My plot hook?"

Hee.  He's cute.

He'll stay there in silence, for a while, one finger still twined gently into the little handle.  It's a little bit before it occurs to him that he's smiling.

Eventually he gets hungry again, though.

He pats the door to the box.  "I'll come back," he murmurs.