Let's Call You Cara (Flash Fiction)

Let's call you Kara.

You're beautiful. I think I tried to tell you that once. We were at a party, and I had probably a little too much to drink. I wanted to impress you by not using a pick up line, so I started to make my way over to you. You were sitting on the second-floor balcony, your legs dangling carelessly over the party below. I sat down next you, and smiled. You turned your head slightly and returned the smile. I don't think I ever said the words I wanted to say.

Let's call you Mary.

You're a genius. At least, from my perspective. We shared a class one semester, and during tests I would race to finish before you. Sometimes I did, and sometimes I didn't. You always got the better grade, though. I asked if I could borrow your notes on the day I was sick. You said no, but you said it with a smile.

Let's call you Sarah.

You're unique, dressed in a green gogo dress, with furry artic boots in the middle of september. Your sunglasses were star-shaped, and glittered in the pale light. Your backpack had SoundWave stuffed in a mesh pocket, and I asked you politely if he still transformed. You replied that he did, and played music besides. I envied you.

Let's call you Jennifer.

You helped me jump my car in the parking lot, even though I had no cables and no way of showing my appreciation. It was well after last call, and most of the other patrons had gone home. I was having a bad day, and the battery dying was almost the last straw. You were smiling, showing me where to attach the cables. You drove away when it was all done, and I felt much better, even though I didn't make it home.

Let's call you Alice.

I heard you were getting married, and I'm sure it's going to be great. The man, from what I hear, is simply fantastic. He's nothing like me, and maybe that's okay too. Your wedding should be spectacular. I've always imagined you'd have a rockstar life.

Let's call you Diana

I've never told you how I really feel, even after we slept together, and I've never let anyone know who you are. That night, while you slept, I tried to stay away, drinking in every moment. You were having a bad week, and needed release. I was a quick lay, nothing more. I knew this, and so I held you and eventually slept. You were gone when I woke up.

Let's call you Wendy

Maybe we'll see each other again. And maybe I'll find someone who can erase all these beautiful memories. Until then, I'll let myself think of you just before I sleep, when everything is quiet, dark, and hidden. I hope you're happy now, wherever you've wandered off to. I want you to be.

Writing Prompt:
I didn't understand what she was talking about and I didn't care.

She wore high heels, bright pink and covered with splatters of ink. Her legs bore the standard mark of an elf: low muscle, sleek, and long. She looked like a child, her red silken dress obviously designed for a human frame. She smiled, though, and it glowed. She held a cigarette in an extender, its plastic gleaming under the flickering neon lights.

"Telama nu?" She purred. I shrugged.

"I don't speak elf," I replied quietly.

She blinked, and looked the slightest bit hurt; her oversized eyes glistened. "Nola Ellanna?"

I sighed, and pulled the faded photo from my pocket. A warlock friend had given it a few passes in color, but the rain and moonlight was sapping it back to it's natural amber hue. The girl in the image was human, in her Sunday best, and smiling like nothing in the world would ever be wrong. I hoped that was still true for her, though the job seemed to imply that it wasn't. While some people did simply disappear, fleeing to a neighboring kingdom or even into the mist, all the signs pointed to trouble.

And in Harbro, trouble was most likely to be found in the underground.

"Have you seen this girl?" I asked the elf. She took the picture, glanced at it and rubbed the back of her neck in thought. A car passed on the cobblestone road, its tires cutting a streak through the puddle; its engine purring seductively. The elf flinched at the sound, then smiled apologetically and again stared at the picture.

"Decono, elma... Nola ryo mana," She finally said, passing it back.

"You haven't seen her?" I asked as I tucked the image back into my raincoat.

I don't think she understood my words, but she caught my drift and shook her head. "Ryo mana, nola."

I nodded and passed over a KingFran. Her eyes lit up at the bill, small through it was. She held it up to the streetlight, grinning visibly. I nodded politely at her and stepped past her into the neon-lit doorway, following the long dark stairway into the underworld.