In my day, I’ve seen many things. I’ve held many things inside of me. I’ve been used to hold items for “safe-keeping”. Funny how my namesake is a word for security. I kept things “safe”, as if that weren’t obvious enough. I’ve held plenty of documents. Maybe even a weapon or two. Plenty of money and gold bars. I’m not a bank, but they felt I was more responsible than people. I can appreciate that. I’m just a big box of metal with a dial smack dab on my face. I seem to have outlived my usefulness though. I’m corroded and rusted. My door won’t stay closed. They’ve put me to pasture on this concrete slab.