File under: People whose couches I've literally slept on.

Fragments from Elaine Harwell's fb notes: 55 word short stories, a poem, a haiku or two

The Jailer's Daughter

“Please return for me.”

I reach back through the open window and squeeze her hand. “I will.”
Silently I scramble down the ladder away from her quiet sobs and towards my freedom.
I feel awful about lying but there’s no time to worry about that now. I’m busy praying the soldiers have mercy on her.

10-1-08 (?)

---

Bang

When I catch up to him I feel the need for an explanation. "I panicked." My voice sounds dangerously hollow.
He backs away, his face pale.
"Look, man, help me out here." I turn to re-enter the store. "Don't be chicken shit."
"Bro-" He trails off.
In the distance we can already hear the sirens.

10-2-08 (?)

---

Opportunities Abound

"But he's so nice," she protests.
I roll my eyes. "Whatever."
"You're so callous." She slouches back in her seat.
"Whatever." I take a sip of my coffee. A guy walks past. I eye him and he returns the favor. I wink; he blushes.
"You see that?" I ask her. "I bet he's nice, too."

10-4-08

---

Pills

She slams the empty pill canister on the table with such force that the orange plastic cracks slightly.
"I took these," Her voice quivers. "All of them."
Tom sighs and slowly folds his newspaper with painstaking deliberation. Finished, he reaches up and adjusts his glasses.
He clears his throat. "Are you breaking up with me?"

10-5-08

---

Urban Haiku

Pigeons are parrots

and all the towers are trees

in concrete jungles.

---

Formatting

When he grew quiet and said


“It isn’t working”


I should’ve said

“Cool, can you turn this truck around ’cause there was an awful cute boy at that restaurant and I didn’t quite catch his number."





Instead, I said



“Ok”

and silently removed myself from the vehicle.







Now I am left with seven digit questions.

---

Orion is my Patron Saint

Orion is my patron saint;
He and I: we stalk the night.
And when the roads are dark and long,
He alone will share my plight.

Orion, lodestone of the sky!
Steadfast with unyielding light,
Unwavering, silent he waits.
Standing tall with heroes’ might.

Orion: blessed sentinel,
Come to me, o silent knight.
In darkness deep shall I find peace
With him above, shining bright.

Orion is my patron saint;
He and I: we own the night.

---

Banter Barter

“May I have one?”
“Sure,” he hesitates, “… But only if you give me your number.”
“For you? Anything.” I reach for a cocktail napkin as he fumbles around with the carton.
Our exchange complete, he gets the urge to confess. “I’m sorry, those weren’t my cigarettes.”
“It’s ok,” I reply. “That’s not my number.”
---

Bi-ku

Two girls and two boys.

Homosexuality.

I would date them all.
 
---
 
Stop! Adventuretime!
 
He looks me up and down.
“You always dress like that?”
“Only until I take my clothes off.”
His puzzled look was beginning to show a heightened curiosity. Reconsidering my words, I realized where I went wrong.
“No, no. Stop it. Not like that. I mean, this is how I’ll look until I change.”
“Oh?” Tilted head. He still didn’t understand.
“Today I’m a hipster.” I explain. “Tomorrow? School girl. Or secretary; can’t decide.”
He nods wisely, as if considering. “School girl, I’d say.” A planned squint. “Yes, school girl for sure.”
“Maybe. Just clothing-turned-costume, after all.” I fiddle with my iPod, waiting an appropriate amount of time for a response. None comes; I lift the ear bud.
“What are ya listening to?” I waited too long.
“Music.” I consider taking off my sunglasses so he can get the full effect of my scowl. It’s sunny out, though, and I don’t like painful experiences so early in the day.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.” His eyes begin to lower towards the screen. Quick! A decision must be made: tilt toward him for friendship, away for a peaceful bus ride.
Ever so slightly, I tilt the screen… towards him.
First, neon pink shoes. And now, this.

I am the proper picture of adventure this morning.
 
All writings © Elaine Harwell, posted with permission