my mother used to take my sister and I to see our great-grandmother

Holli, if you're unsure about me or I, take out "my sister and", leaving "my mother used to take I/me". Trick I learned.

I can see the stacks of boxes. I can almost smell them. I want to know what's in the rest of them!

I'd read it, jen.

It's really nice, Holli. I wonder how Aunt Biena felt about the opened box?

Holli, I was shocked to jump back and see this was a short story. It feels very real.

"nobody at school will give it the proper machete treatment"

Can you specify what you want to do with it? Does it need to be shorter?

And, FTR, my piece is about squashing infinite copyright extension. I'm an amateur and that's fine, but the less abject humiliation when I send it out, the better. (I don't actually want to be able to hear the laughter.)

I, too, wondered if there'd be a reaction by Biena to her boxes being gone through. Maybe the narrator could accidentally knock one over and end up inadvertantly pawing through the contents that way? Speaking as a person with a couple of boxes myself, I'd feel less invaded if the pawing were 'blameless.'

Jengod, I know Eric Eldred. Cool.

Holli, that's a charming story, and it took me back, rather; my mother died in 1994 and for some reason best known only to herself, she apparently kept everything she'd ever picked up in her entire life in a bazillion cartons, stacked to the ceiling joists. We actually found supermarket sale coupons from 1972. Everything was carefully bundled into rubber bands.

I liked your relatives' reactions, as well. All in all, I think that's some very nice work.

What are you calling it?

I don't actually have a title yet-- they aren't something I'm very good at. I usually call things I write "that story, you know, the one with the thing" until somebody comes up with a better title.

Maybe something like "Shadow Boxes"?

(just off the cuff)

"Boxed-Up"?