Dolls in Clear Plastic Sacks
by Daniel Guy Robert stands at the window of his converted barn, looking down the narrow tree-lined track leading to the road. He glances at gold watch strapped to his wrist. Delivery hours between one and five, they said and now it’s five exactly. His mouth is dry. He’s drunk a bottle of wine already. His cock is hard and his hands are shaking. A van turns into the driveway. Two men in blue overalls open the back of their van and bring a large rectangular cardboard box to his door. They lean it against the wall of his porch and one of them smiles at Robert, standing at the door. Hi there. Mr Williams? Here we are. Alexis, mark three model. There’s some tape inside so you can seal the box up when you’ve finished. We collect at five o’clock tomorrow. Can you just sign here, sir? As the sound of the van’s departure fades, Robert stares down at the box, left on the floor of his lounge. He kneels down beside it and begins to pull off the thick silver tape...