Camel 3 of 17

The carton’s flattened state, the interesting ways the sides now folded outward initially attracted me. Eventually, the camel and his humped back reflecting the shapes of the pyramids in the background deepened my associations. Discovering the golden lining that snuggled the now absent cigarettes as precious cargo reminded me of some exotic woman’s slip. One might have expected her scent, but not even the aroma of the cigarettes remained. The odd shapes that the lid and flaps made and the antique, stained look of its history laying there on the street reminded me of an artifact in a cubist painting by Braque or Picasso.

I finally picked this refuse up, aware at first of the smoke stained hands of the last person who discarded it, the indiscretion of people motivated by habit, who often leave trash on our property, and the filth of the tires that ran over it in the street during the days it lay there. The box was made of tag board, not cellophane lined paper like other brands. This masculine feel was a contradiction with the feminine inside. Made for the rugged! I was, however, secretly happy that it had not been blown by the wind or washed down the gutter nearby. As I negotiated the steps to my house, I glanced again at the camel and massaged the logo in my mind, expecting some truth or some revelation to occur.

(Next: More clues and meanings on the box)


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