The Dotted Line
by Martijn Benders / 2001

A man once decided to saw through his horse. He jammed its head into a vice.To its legs he tied weights by cramming empty packets of washing powder with marbles.

Those with the nice oily colors. Tape, to stick up the nozzles with. When the clock struck seven he tied his wife to a chair and forgot to turn on the dishwasher.

Turbid mugs just stood there. The forest lit up by tl lights. The car stood outside the garage with its tail lights blinking to warn eventual spectators to keep a safe distance.

No one showed up.
The driveway stayed empty.
O
No sirens did sound.
Everyone just remained where he was.

He stored the Black & Decker in the barn in a little rack, he had build himself. It leaned over a bit, but only a mope notices. He closed the garage door, fully automatic.

Then he went for a walk, with his eyes closed. From a sorting drift, to spare the eyes with something. He managed to take the dog out of its kennel now walks down the street with a parachute on his back.