A Box

We built a box, just one box, that could survive the end of the world. The search began for a person, just one person, to fill it, to sit in it and emerge afterwards. We consulted scientists who had every parameter. We spoke with philosophers who surmised every angle. We talked with the religious who

I pursued her for months, begging at first to lay with her, then to kiss her, at last just to lay beneath her canopy, her arms stretched upwards, her breasts pointed down and out. But each time I entreated her, she said, “Catch me.”