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Description
     Deep, deep down below unchartered waters, beneath the roaring waves, resting on the murky seabed was a tiny wooden chest. It was no bigger than two shoeboxes stacked one on top of the other and one could not really call it a treasure chest or a pirate’s sunken treasure as it did not appear worthy of such fancy titles. It was just a dull, unembellished, putrefying little chest that held neither gold nor silver, neither an assortment of precious stones nor other worldly treasures. It would not make its discoverer wealthy; not even close. The most secret sea-dwellers and the darkest of creatures did not bother with the chest either. So it was left to rot in its watery grave, solitary, forlorn and abandoned, companionless save for the steady rhythm of the current.

     Oftentimes, in the impenetrable darkness of the night, when not even the moonlight dared to shimmer and dance about in the shadowy waters, the lonely chest was known to mourn its undeniable fate. It contained the most arcane collection of discarded thoughts, suppressed emotions, unspoken words and unwritten stories. Also hidden within the safety of its four mildewed walls was an inescapable bubble of silence, which threatened to engulf and smother the entire sea, if ever released from the chest.

     Maybe no living person had dared to seek out the tiny wooden chest because they feared the unknown spectacle that lay asleep inside.  Maybe it was because the little lock on the chest changed ever so often and nobody possessed the key to unlocking it. But why... why had nobody even tried?