This is unusual for me. Typically, looking at my old writing is a pain-inducing experience full of scattered exclamations of "What does this mean?" and "They shouldn't have let me learn English." But I found it enjoyable! It's experimental but somehow not pretentious and a bit comic too. So I made a copy and tightened some parts up a bit. This is, I believe, the third draft of the story, and the best by far. I understand that the story has no actual meaning (if you're looking for a message, you're looking in the wrong place), but I think that it's reasonably well-written and I'm quite proud of it.
"Eli Turned the Corner"
Eli turned the corner.
Eli turned the corner.
A man walked up to him.
Eli turned the corner.
The man was tall and thin and dressed fairly casually, unlike most of the people who had visited him recently. He looked younger too.
Eli turned the corner.
“Hey there,” said the man, crouching down. “Your name is Eli, right?”
“Yeah,” said Eli. He did not stop.
Eli turned the corner.
The man adjusted his glasses and scratched his beard. He gave off a different aura than the other men who he’d been talking to, with his unruly hair and stubble that seemed to be maintained and cultivated rather than unwanted. In other words, every single other parent his dad made fun of when dropping him off at school. Between glances up from the moving floor, Eli saw him get up from his crouch and furrow his brow.
Eli turned the corner.
“Would you, uh,” said the man. “Would you mind stopping for a bit so we can talk?”
“I would mind,” said Eli.
Eli turned the corner.
He felt a tinge of guilt at how rude that statement had been. He was unsure how regretful he actually was over it, however. Who was this man to assume he could just stop?
Eli turned the corner.
“That’s alright. Totally cool,” said the man. “I just need to make sure you’re listening to me. Okay?”
“I am,” said Eli.
Eli turned the corner.
“Okay,” said the man. “Uh, let’s see. Oh! Um, I’m Dr. Whitlock. You can call me Brad if that would make you feel more comfortable.”
“Nice to meet you, Dr. Whitlock,” said Eli, eyes still pointed unwavering toward the ground.
Eli turned the corner.
He looked at Dr. Whitlock. He was standing there, observing him in complete silence. He would look up occasionally, flicker his eyes about in Eli’s general direction, and then he would go back to scratching something hurriedly in his pocket-sized spiral notebook.
Dr. Whitlock looked up and saw Eli staring at the notebook with contempt, maintaining his derisive gaze even as the concrete obscured him from view.
Eli turned the corner.
“Do you want me to put away the notebook?” asked Dr. Whitlock.
Eli nodded and redirected his gaze back toward the ground.
Dr. Whitlock tucked the pencil in the spiral of the notebook and placed it in the pocket of his partially unbuttoned shirt. He did not stop observing Eli and mouthing something to himself.
Eli turned the corner.
Dr. Whitlock clapped his hands and made an attempt to look Eli directly in the eye. In Eli’s constant motion and disinterest, he failed at doing so. He spoke with great excitement and enthusiasm nonetheless.
Eli turned the corner.
“So, Eli, I’m not going to beat around the bush here. there are some people in your life who are fairly concerned about you,” said Dr. Whitlock. “Do you know why?”
Eli turned the corner.
“Beats me,” said Eli. “They’re always concerned about something with me. Parents are like that sometimes.”
Eli turned the corner.
“Well, Eli, it’s not just your parents, it’s, uh, just about everyone who knows you, and a good chunk of people who don’t know you, I’d say, as well.”
Eli turned the corner.
“That figures. I’ve met with, like, ten people who did almost this exact thing so far,” said Eli.
Eli turned the corner.
Dr. Whitlock laughed. “And how frequently do you think you’ve had to meet these people?” he said.
Eli turned the corner.
“Very frequently,” he said. “Last one was probably ten minutes ago, give or take.”
Eli turned the corner.
Dr. Whitlock clenched his teeth, a gesture that Eli took note of as he briefly looked up from the ground in front of him. Eli detected a hint of concern about the answer he had given.
Eli turned the corner.
“Interesting,” said Brad.
Eli turned the corner.
“Are you recording me?” asked Eli, offended.
Eli turned the corner.
“Dammit, ya caught me,” said Dr. Whitlock, hiding his disappointment and slight woundedness behind a casual tone and vaguely guilty smile. He pulled his phone out of his shirt pocket and exited the recording app. “Just as smart as your folks told me.”
Eli turned the corner.
“My parents told you?” asked Eli. “They talked to you?”
Eli turned the corner.
“Absolutely they did.”
Eli turned the corner.
That didn’t seem right. His parents were probably at work, doing their thing, and one of them would probably come by soon to pick him up and take him home so he could go to sleep and then get dropped off here tomorrow. The everyday routine. But they were at work right now. So he couldn’t have spoken to them. Unless he talked to them over the phone. Yeah, that was probably it.
Eli turned the corner.
“You think I’m just some random guy that walked up to you in the middle of this parking garage?” said Dr. Whitlock.
Eli turned the corner.
Parking garage. In all of this hubbub of turning corners, he had completely forgotten where he was.
Eli turned the corner.
He cast his gaze upward. Sure enough, he was in a parking garage, surrounded by row after row of cars. A sense of deja vu struck him.
Eli turned the corner.
Cars, everywhere he went, everywhere he walked. Sometimes the endless cycle of cars repeated as he continued turning corners. All of the cars. And caution tape too. Caution tape in every direction. Or was a police line? He couldn’t see because the words were moving too fast.
Eli turned the corner.
A specific car caught his glance. His parents’ ancient, scratched-up minivan. With people in it. His family. His parents and brother and sisters. They were watching him. They
Eli turned the corner.
were watching him, eyes sagging as if they had not slept in days. They looked as if
Eli turned the corner.
they had been staring hopelessly for days. But
Eli turned the corner.
why would they do such a thing? Eli
Eli turned the corner.
turned his head over. A rotating concrete column, spinning and
Eli turned the corner.
spinning, perfectly in time with his steps. Not spinning, not moving, no. He was the one that was moving. He was walking around the pillar, tracing
Eli turned the corner.
its exterior with his movements. For how long? He considered for a second. He felt hungry. Hours? He didn’t know. No, it was longer he had been
Eli turned the corner.
circling the pillar, turning the endless supply of corners that it provided. He was tired. His muscles ached greatly in a way he felt must have been present all along but he hadn’t felt. The severity of the situation reached him. He had to leave. He needed to
Eli turned the corner.
get
Eli turned the corner.
out
Eli turned the corner.
of
Eli turned the corner.
this
Eli turned the corner.
endless
Eli turned the corner.
cycle
Eli turned the corner.
the
Eli turned the corner.
one
Eli turned the corner.
that
Eli turned the corner.
was
Eli turned the corner.
continuing
Eli turned the corner.
and
Eli turned the corner.
continuing
Eli turned the corner.
and
Eli turned the corner.
showed
Eli turned the corner.
no
Eli turned the corner.
signs of
Eli turned the corner.
ending soon even
Eli turned the corner.
if he ran as
Eli turned the corner.
fast as he could, which he was,
Eli turned the corner.
he still couldn’t break away from
Eli turned the corner.
the cycle.
Eli turned the corner.
Fighting every impulse in his body,
Eli turned the corner.
every shrieking neuron in his brain,
Eli turned the corner.
every burning muscle in his legs,
Eli ttttttttttt
Eli lunged past
corcorcorcorcorcorcorcor
the next corner,
turnedtheturnedtheturnedthe
letting gravity carry him past
c o r n e r
the caution tape
E
or was it a police line
L
or did he just not care?
I
Eli blinked and looked up from the asphalt. Every single inch of his body ached from who knows how long walking around the pillar in a circle that, until just now, seemed as if it was never-ending. He felt the side of his face. He’d given it a nasty scrape from that leap.
He looked at the column. Just an average supporting pillar that you would find in a parking garage, adorned with painted blue stripes and a metal sign reading “LOT C”. No force-fields, no sci-fi technology mounted on the wall, nothing. Just the most ordinary slab of cracked gray concrete on the planet.
Eli got up and shook it off. He saw his family jump out of the minivan and run to him. He smiled and laughed as he felt five pairs of arms slam around him, five faces deposit tears on the shoulder of his T-shirt and firm kisses on his forehead. Eli was crying too as he walked in a straight line toward the car.
Before he climbed into the sliding door, he looked back at Dr. Whitlock, smiling. “Thank you, Brad!” he yelled.
Brad waved back at him, his eyelids scrunched up under the weight of his enormous smile.
As he slid the minivan’s door shut, Eli heard Brad grunt as he stepped over the caution tape and began circling the pillar, just as Eli had done before. Eli watched as Brad bent over and walked, his wire-framed eyes examining each and every sealed concrete crack in an attempt to investigate what had just happened.
For a second Eli thought about rolling down the window and screaming for Brad to get out of there, to not get caught in the same cycle. But Brad is a professional, Eli thought. He’ll be alright in the end.
Brad turned the corner.
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