Sniffbox

Max sat down on his bed, grabbing the small box off of his bedside table. It had showed up one night as he was sleeping, and he had no particular idea where it had come from. But he had found no particular reason not to carry it with him, and he suspected that in doing so, he might one day find the person who had left it with him. Then he might at least find out why it had been left with him, if not be able to return it entirely.

It was clear what its original intention had been. The box was just the right size to fit in the palm of one's hand, and had an easily openable lid. It was some kind of a sniffbox, having contained some kind of material inside to be smelled, presumably to help one fall asleep if the "Dreams" label on the lid was anything to go by. By the time it had come into Max's hands, however, the box was empty, and there was no remnant of the original smell remaining inside. But he often checked it before he went to sleep, wondering if there was something about it he had missed, or if he could think of any reason that it would have been left with him.

It was true that he had difficulty sleeping, and that his dreams were infrequent, and usually nightmares. But it wasn't something that he talked about very often, so he wasn't sure how anyone would have learned about it. And even then, giving him an empty sniffbox wasn't really a way to actually help him out with that. Having it in his possession hadn't changed anything about his sleeping habits, and he continued to dream very rarely and wake up frequently. If anything, it affected him far more often when he was awake than when he was asleep, just because it made him so curious.

He set the box down as he laid back into the bed. It had been some time since his last nightmare - he anticipated another in the coming nights. It had been longer still since he had had a good dream, that that was also expected. If the sniffbox truly had once contained some kind of material that would have gifted him with dreams, he would have gladly used it. That was something that he did not feel he got to experience nearly often enough. But such a gift was not to be, and so he would continue on with his usual, sleepless nights.