Harlow Jones

“Jordan, Courtney, and Paula” by Harlow Jones

“Thanks a lot,” Jordan offered, tossing aside the latte that made Courtney late.  “You’re welcome,” Courtney muttered, snipping on her beverage. “Who brings lattes to a diner?” “How was I supposed to know we were meeting here? You gave me an address, not a restaurant name.” “Who accessories a stakeout with lattes?” “So sorry. It’s only my second day.” She crossed her arms and looked out the window. Jordan glanced across the restaurant’s booths at their target: Paula Jackson, mother of Danielle Jackson who went missing three years p...

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“Sally” by Harlow Jones

“I’m going to go pick up lunch. I’ll be back,” my mother called from the front door. “Okay, I’ll be here,” I hollered from her office. I turned back to wrapping her collection of ceramic bunnies. I made my way down to the bottom of the book shelf, where I found a collection of photo albums. With a lunch break nearing, I relaxed with a dusty book of vintage photos. I flipped through the pages and saw my mom goofing around at a family backyard party. I saw Grandma and Grandpa with brown hair. Aunt Linda and Uncle Mike were the grade-school sw...

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“The Search Party” by Harlow Jones

Yesterday morning, my friend’s neighbor went missing. A little girl named Lily who was eight years old. Kelly asked if we’d join the search party scheduled for today. Of course we said yes. There we were, four young women with flashlights shuffling through a forest of fallen leaves. The sun was setting, making such dire circumstances seem unfittingly beautiful. The four of us walked in one line, side by side. In unison, we took one step forward with each swipe of our flashlights, like a chorus line fighting crime. To make matters worse, my ...

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“Rat Poison” by Harlow Jones

Submitted to Contest #118

That rat has a nose piercing. The next one has pink hair. The one crawling out of the sewer has a back tattoo of an oak tree. I hate this alley, crowded yet empty of people. I shouldn’t even be here, but I can turn back at any point. I stuff my hands into my pockets. My shoulders meet my ears, and my shoes don’t leave the ground. I slide down this shortcut, sure to make no casualties during my commute. Last year, the Free party abolished the death penalty. However, the Prudents insisted they needed a policy in its place. Five months of pris...

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“Trick-of-Treat Patrol” by Harlow Jones

Garry scoffed at the evening’s seventh cat. “This is unbelievable.” “What is?” Larry asked. “This Halloween tradition has lost all its vigor.” They looked over the suburban street. From parents in no costumes to houses with no lights on and a tray of candy left on the porch. From no décor to high schoolers dressed in all black and explaining that they’re “ninjas.” The two Trick-or-Treat Patrol (TOTP) officers continued kicking rocks along the street. When they saw the neighborhood rascals dump a whole bucket of unattended candy into their ...

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“The Basement” by Harlow Jones

“I don’t think we should be down here,” Whitney said, tucked behind her friend as they scurried toward the school’s basement. “We’ll be fine,” Shirley replied, shoulders back and chin up. If she didn’t have to pee so badly, then she would have strutted down that hallway. At the top of the staircase, they read a sign “ DO NOT ENTER.” A cold air came up and slithered around their legs. The girls shivered. Shirley yanked the lock and rattled the chains. Whitney shushed her while looking over her shoulders, sure to check both directions. Shirl...

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“Night Sweats” by Harlow Jones

After dinner with his parents, he drank too many beers, woke up with cold sweats, and slept in until noon. She drank water, counted six empty beer cans, woke up to him taking a shower, and waited four hours for him to wake up. When driving on their way home last night, she said she wanted him to be healthier. Once they got home, he ate sour gummy worms and smoked a joint. She knew he didn’t like his mother. Now, she faced his recovery. Three days now, he’s slept in and napped. Each day, she reminded him to get his pills refilled. When sugge...

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“The Women of the Dungeon” by Harlow Jones

How is one supposed to respond when their sister tells them she got engaged to someone she’s only dated for two weeks? Because she tells me over the phone, I don’t have to cover my blown-out eyes. After a mental double take, I force a smile and congratulations. I have never been so relieved for my waitressing gig. My impending shift gives me a reason to end the conversation. With my purse on my shoulder, I told my sister goodbye and left. As I power walk, I pass a couple hugging. Then, I see another pair next to them making out in broad day...

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“Juna” by Harlow Jones

“How was school, sweetie?” The mother asked her daughter across the table of french fries, burgers, and a blockbuster-sponsored toy. “It was great. Miss Waters said I could bring in treats for my birthday next week.” “Really? What do you want to make?” “Brownies!” The daughter smiled. *** Tessa jolted up. “What the hell?” She jumped out of the metal bed and ran, bumping into her peers. Once at her destination, she knocked on the door while opening it. “Yusra, something’s wrong with my teleportation device,” she started and sat down. “...

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“How to Save a Friend in the Rain” by Harlow Jones

“How long has she been out there?” “Since 10 this morning, so six hours.” “And when did it start raining?” “One hour ago.” “So she’s been sitting in the rain for a whole sixty minutes? What’s wrong with her?” “I’m not sure. I tried asking her, but she didn’t want to talk. She just wanted to be with her car.” “You mean that piece-of-shit Jeep?” “Luke! Be nice.” “Why? She can’t hear me from out there.” Paula enters, the sound of rain crashing their conversation. “Any luck?” “No. She wouldn’t move. She wouldn’t say anything, just occ...

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“Peanuts and Fruits” by Harlow Jones

Once she waved goodbye to the final suitor of the day, she plopped down onto her chair, tossed her clipboard, and stared out at her rows of peanuts. Since her parents’ retirement, Cassie has owned this land. However, since she could see, she loved this land. It was her mother’s family’s land for centuries. Later, her father married in and brought fruit-farming expertise with him. Their love story has been as smooth as butter. It was easy. They just made sense together. This year, the crops were plentiful, but the lovers were not. The pig br...

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“A Mother's Daughter” by Harlow Jones

As Morgan drove off into the sunset, she had to tie her neck to the head rest to not look back. She would never return to who she was. She had eyes on her future. With everything behind her, nothing would -- Ring. Ring. Ring. “The hell?” She yanked the car over to the shoulder. She fumbled through pockets, ransacking her backpack to find the source of the disruption. She double-checked her memory of destroying her phone before she left. Once she dug to the bottom of the last pocket, she found a burner phone with a bow on it. With a shaking v...

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“Pearls and Portfolios” by Harlow Jones

Submitted to Contest #109

“Mrs. Fry, we are beyond excited to have you join our team.” “It’s Ms. Fry,” Georgie corrected the small man leading her to her new classroom. No longer would she have to share with another teacher. This space was all her own. She was going to be the best science teacher Oak Hills Preparatory Academy had ever seen. “Right, Ms. Fry,” Principal Werner responded like the three times before. “Here we are.” He gestured to the open door like an elevator assistant announcing a new floor. He stood to the side, clearing the way to her educational w...

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“The Tiger and the Lion” by Harlow Jones

Submitted to Contest #108

She limped up the hill. Her feet dragged. She slid on her way down. Her shoes’ traction expired. She huffed and puffed to her car. Once seated behind the wheel, she flipped down the sun visor and saw a red face staring back at her.  She flipped the visor up and threw her head back. Her panting accompanied her thoughts. How could she ever think running would be a good hobby? The one silver lining was that she managed to not twist an ankle in the crumbled foundation she called running shoes. She looked at the seat beside her and sighed. ...

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“The Bread Aisle” by Harlow Jones

Submitted to Contest #105

“Hi, I’m Taylor. It’s nice to meet you. Too boring. I’m Taylor. It’s nice to meet me. Too cocky.” Taylor turned around and grabbed two more loaves of bread and nestled them in their spots on the shelf. “Hi, I’m Taylor. Are you ready for the best date of your life? Too desperate.” He looked at his watch. His boss said he could leave once he finished stocking the bread. He had two boxes and twenty minutes left. Things were looking good. “Johnny, will you stop for a second and listen to me?” “I am listening.” Taylor looked over his shoulder ...

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