Out of the Box, into a Box

Forty-nine friends had been placed together. Some had come from the same tree. More again from the same branch. All of them faced in the same direction. Head-to-toe. “I'm going on strike,” said match number one.    “Very fucking funny,” said match number two.    “This is too much. I can't take it! My head is going to explode!” said a third.    “How droll,” said match number two.    “Yeah we're all going the same way. Death. Burnt at the stake,” grumbled a forth. It's fair to say that all of the matches looked pretty much alike, so you can’t really be sure who said what. Not really. Then that old-fashioned, arbitrary light opened and shone once again. The way it does and goes.

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