Fine Line by Ryan Quinn Flanagan

I took a ruler and pencil to paper
and ran into the next room
and asked her:
Do you think this is a fine line?
I’m not answering you, she said.
Why not?, I asked.
Because you’re being stupid.
Well, I think this is not only a fine line,
but quite possibly the finest line
ever constructed…
I think I’m going to enter it
in that art contest next month.

She said nothing.

There’s a ten dollar entry fee, I said,
but we’re a shoo-in.

TEN DOLLARS!, the words escaped her
and she covered her mouth.

I smiled
tore the paper to shreds
and started eating
them.

One by one
as the people on the television
were stuck on an island
all lying to each other
and the missus waited to see
who was voted off
before she could go
to bed.

ryan-quinn-flanagan
Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a happily unmarried proud father of none. His work can be found both in print and online in such joints as Your One Phone Call, Homestead Review, Horror Sleaze Trash, and Dead Snakes. He has an affinity for dragonflies, discount tequila, and all things sarcastic.
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