The Fuck Box
The Fuck Box. Carl carries Rosie in his arms, up the grand white marble staircase of his country manor house. She is asleep and naked. Her head hangs limp and her arm dangles, rocking gently from side to side with each careful step he takes. At the top of the house, he nudges heavy oak double doors open with his foot and then carries her into an enormous bedroom, filled with tasteful and exotic artefacts from Africa and Asia. In the centre of the room stands a large four-poster bed, carved from thick dark oak. The bed is completely enclosed in a tightly fitting clear plastic tent. On one side, the plastic curtain is unzipped and pinned back, so that Carl is able to lean over and lay the limp body of Rosie down onto shiny white plastic sheets. He rests her head down gently on the large white plastic pillow and then carefully pulls the long strands of her golden hair away from her face. He looks at his watch. He whispers to himself