Chair, Smudge, Door, Table

04 Jul 2022

You’re tied to a plain wooden chair. A naked light bulb illuminates everything in the room, which is nothing. There’s a smudge in the paint by the plain wooden door. Between you and the door is another plain wooden chair, and between you and that, a small, plain, wooden table. You sit and you stare at the table and the chair and the smudge and the door. Table. Smudge. Door. Chair. Door. Smudge. Table. Chair. Door. Smudge. Door.

Doorknob.

The doorknob turns. A man walks in. He sits in the plain wooden chair. Wordlessly, he sets an aerosol hairspray can onto the plain wooden table with a clank.

You smirk. “What are you going to do? Style me to death?”

He reaches into his pocket, then opens his hand to reveal a lighter. He smiles.

As the flames from the improvised blowtorch begin to lick your skin, you stare at the smudge in the paint and marvel at the way a truly gruesome death can be accomplished with next to nothing.