I'm practising for hell...

When she woke up, she found herself enclosed in a glass box just big enough for her to stand in. The box was in the center of a studio with twenty or so spectators meandering around the room looking into the other various glass boxes containing other human beings. She cupped her hands against the glass and stuck her face against them and squinted to view the human inside the glass box not far from her. He hung naked from a rope attached to the top of the box, blatantly dead. She looked down and saw a small sign on the bottom of the box that read “Death by lynching”. “Such a magnificent art piece,” she heard a spectator viewing the box say.

Dont send me roses; Cant you see I’ve got flowerhands?