116

Harlow came up to the register
And pulled a snub revolver
From his belt and he put it
To the head of the cashier.
He was dressed in sneakers
And black pants and a yellow
Jersey, no. 24. He was small
And black and his thin head
Seemed to protrude crookedly
From the loose frame of his
Shoulders and his thin ribcage.
The cashier saw the aisle beyond
Him was empty and dark, blue,
Prolific with white bottles and
As if stretching into a vacuum.
Sweat formed in his mustache.
The store was a system outside
Of them, and they were alone.
Empty the register and hand
It to me Harlow said, quietly.
Hand you the register said the
Cashier. The child let there be a
Silence a moment and then he
Cocked the pistol and ground it
Into the forehead of the cashier.
You do not have to do this the
Cashier said and he was shaking.
Neither do you Harlow said.