the theatre seat

by chris.

at the end of the row of theatre seats he jammed a nail into the bearings
that swung the chair up. the seat stayed down, ready for someone to sit in
it, while the rest stood up, rigid, erect. the nail was purchased for
fifteen cents at a local lumber shop.

"i don't want to buy the whole box of nails," he'd said to the employee of
the lumber shop. "i just want one, to use to prevent a theatre seat from
coming back up."

the employee looked at him for a few seconds. "what if you need more?" he
finally asked.

"i won't. i know what i am doing."

the employee shook his head and grabbed the box of nails off the shelf and
held it out to the customer. "look, it's just a dollar for the box. you
may need more sometime."

after he killed the employee, he laid him down in a corner of the store and
took a nail from the box. he set the box on the employee's chest and placed
a dime on his left eye and a nickel on his right. the employee now looked
like a googley-eyed, bloodied monster. the customer walked out of the lumber
shop with his newly purchased nail, shining in the afternoon sun, and walked
the four blocks or so to the abandoned theatre.

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