Wednesday, 29 June 2011

Don't Cross the Line

"Don't cross the line," I warned.

"What line?" replied Roth.

"That one, there!" I nodded my head in the direction of an empty area of wooden floor. It was quite dusty, as though the building had been abandoned for years.

"There isn't a line there. I'm puzzled. Should there be?"

"We're early. It's not there yet..."

We weren't, as it happens, all that early. As we watched a chalk line appeared and slowly sketched out an intricate shape on the floor.

"It's lovely to see an artist at work, don't you think?" I asked.

"I agree," agreed Roth, "Hey, it's the outline of a body! Like at a crime scene!"

"Ex-police artist."

"Why can't we see him?"

"Ex. He's dead. The police don't often employ ghosts. I think they are prejudiced."

We watched for a while.

"Do you think the body really did have two heads and three arms?" enquired Roth.

"I think he drew the way he felt."


  1. oooh... i can't wait to see who dusts for prints...

  2. Hey Matey! I do like to see an artist express himself. Or herself. Or bothself. We should get another police car; they confiscated the last one far too quickly. Roth

  3. I feel quite sorry for him, stuck there all alone, night after night drawing dead people.

  4. Dare to step over the line! Then again, not a good idea if you happen to have two heads and three arms.


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