CINAQUAIN AT DAWN THE WIND-SHAPED TREES THEIR SULLEN SILHOUETTES GIVE WAY TO SUN-LEAF MORNING. BLUE AND GREEN. -CLAUDIA TURNER ALMOST MORNING NOT QUITE LOVING NOT QUITE HAVING NOT QUITE UNDERSTANDING ALMOST CHILD-ADULT EACH DAY DAWNS AT MIDNIGHT FEARING THE UNFAMILIAR YET ALMOST WANTING ALMOST SEEING ALMOST TOUCHING ALMOST BREATHING' BUT FEARING PAIN ALMOST DARING THE PRESENT ALMOST IMPORTANT BUT IT'S NEVER NOON. AFRAID OF LIVING TIRED OF DESTROYING BUT ALMOST EQUAL ALMOST SHAMELESS ALMOST WARM ALMOST BECOMING WITH ALMOST SOMETHING TO SAY ALMOST READY SOMETHING RUPTURES THE VACUUM, AND IT'S ALMOST MORNING. --NIKKI HANSEN 30 AFTERMATH / Suzanne Eyestone Elinore sat in the darkened front room and leaned back against the brocade chair. Her bare feet stretched out in a heavy rug and rubbed slowly back and forth through its thick pile. Her elbows rested on the padded arm rests and she held a delicate china teacup in her hands. Only the knuckles on her hand betrayed any emotion. They nobbed up white and hard against her soft pink skin. She held the cup in both hands with her thumbs pressed wearily against her lips. Above the rim, her eyes were closed and she could not see the tiny waves sloshing back and forth. A small clock on the mantle chimed softly the half hour, and Elinore knew it was 5:30. By now the whole town would know about her disgrace. Harry had probably heard. She had seen that nosy Mrs. Botts down in the audience. Mrs. Botts God bless Mrs. Botts. What would the towns-women do without Mrs. Botts around to spread, enlarge and invent all the latest gossip? Elinore thought once more of Harry and a small involuntary shudder quivered her shoulders. She lowered the cup and took a small sip of luke-warm coffee. Harry drove up the shady tree-lined street. He was making himself drive very slowly, forcing himself to sit errect with a pleasant smile on his face. He even forced himself to nod congenially at Mrs. Botts who was standing outside her house raking at some dead leaves. She had stopped her raking and straightened up with both of her plump arms resting on the rake handle. "Lovely day, Mrs. Botts. Lots of gossip, Mrs. Botts? Go to hell, Mrs. Botts." He mimicked her harsh voice in his mind and allowed himself to drive a little faster, until he was past her house. Elinore raised her head at the sound of an approaching car. She knew it was Harry; she didn't have to look. And she didn't have to guess what he would say when he came in. He would walk from the car to the house very pleasantly and smile at any of the neighbors outside. Then he would step very quietly into the house, close the door and "ELINORE!" His voice carried into the frontroom punctuated by his short quick steps on the polished wood of the hall floor, "You really did it now. Elinore, how could you?" Harry rounded the door jamb and walked swiftly toward her small figure in the chair. "Why did you do it? Why? Why? Why?" (continued) 31