Somewhere, In The Middle Of Nowhere

2

Prairie Creek was a fairly populated town, East supposed. Most if not all of the people were born and raised here, minus himself and one of the bartenders at The Stenciled Dancer. As far as East knew, he was the only one out of state. 

Harriet Tuttle came down the street, the local looker of Prairie Creek. Although that wasn't...... too much of a title. All it took in good ole' Prairie Creek to be better than the last was to at the least have all our teeth and no STDs too noticeable on your face. Harriet had just turned thirty-eight last Spring, and since then, he found the woman more often than not sitting with him to accompany his hours spent glaring at the street. A few words would be exchanged (or more realistically, she'd talk, and he'd grunt, on occasion.)

"Hi, East," Harriet said, her voice soft and smooth as a summer breeze. He didn't know why on earth she wasted the tone on him. "See anythin' today?"

"Seen lots, Hattie," East replied quietly, his eyes set like stone ahead. "Nothin' worth talkin' about, though."

Harriet merely snickered at his words, her thin, pinkened lips tugging into a small smile. "Yeah, alright." She cast him a sidelong glance, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I see plenty worth talkin' about, I'll have you know."

"Do ya now?" East teased, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice.

"Mh-hm. Plenty of things, East," she insisted, leaning in slightly, her auburn hair catching the light.

"Got an example, Miss Tuttle?" East smirked, enjoying the moment as he watched her expression shift to one of mild embarrassment, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. "Guess that's that."

"Give me a minute, I'll think'a somethin'," she replied, a playful pout forming on her lips. The challenge hung in the air, and East couldn't help but chuckle softly.

As they sat in comfortable silence, Harriet glanced around the street, her gaze falling on a group of children playing tag nearby. Their laughter broke through the stillness, a reminder of the innocence that thrived amidst the town's rough edges. "You know," she began, shifting the conversation, "it's a good day for some gossip. Did you hear about Mr. Faulkner? He finally managed to catch that raccoon that's been raiding his garbage!"

East raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. "Did he now? That's quite the feat."

"Oh, it gets better," Harriet continued, her excitement bubbling over. "He claimed he was going to hold a feast to celebrate his victory. Can you imagine? A whole town gathering to hear tales of a raccoon hunt?"

East leaned back against the rough wood of the porch, the sun casting a warm glow on his face. "Only in Prairie Creek," he said, shaking his head in disbelief but smiling nonetheless. "What a spectacle that'll be."

Harriet laughed, the sound bright and infectious. "You should come, East! You could use a bit of fun in your life. Besides, who else would be there to keep me company?"

"I'd hate to steal the spotlight from the raccoon," he replied dryly, but the hint of a smile lingered on his lips.

"Aw, come on! You know you'd be the real attraction," she said, nudging him playfully. "The outsider who's seen more than just this dusty town. You could share your stories, your wisdom—whatever that is."

"Not much wisdom in just bein' from somewhere else," East replied, though the spark in his eyes hinted at something more. "But maybe I'll swing by if I'm feelin' generous."

Harriet grinned, a look of victory lighting her features. "That's the spirit, East! Just you wait. I'll have you chattin' and laughin' before you know it."

With that, East allowed himself a rare moment of relaxation. Perhaps there was something to this small-town life after all—especially with someone like Harriet around to keep it interesting.