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"mystics, statistics and the sasquatch of los angeles" flash fiction

by littlefallsmets

Entries 22

Page 1 of 1

“You’re a miracle, you’re… impossible,” the scientist yelled, but not as a compliment or even a statement of fact, it was an accusation, “I’m only normal. Christ, I’m far less than normal.” I ask...


Los Angeles has its ghosts, like anywhere, and like anywhere else, most sightings have practical explanation. Ninety-nine-point-nine-nine-nine percent of all hauntings are hoax or heating duct, d...


“It’s like the San Andreas Fault,” the Amazing Mitzi told Frank the Yeti once, describing the way magic worked, “the more movement applied, the more violent the fracture.” Simple tricks don’t ev...


Hard enough being the last of your kind, that’d be burden enough for Frank, to be certain he was the last sasquatch on Earth, but only being mostly sure, that’s what hit him hardest. To wake up a...


Just about any Denny’s, there’s generally a claw machine game somewhere near the front of the house. You know, you put in a quarter, these days as much as a dollar and get twenty seconds to posit...


Mark Twain once said “if you don’t like the weather in New England, just wait a few minutes” or maybe he didn’t. Maybe someone said it first but because he was famous it was remembered as his alo...


I asked Frank how he was able to function here, even with the curse making him seen as a person instead of a sasquatch, even knowing his education in human studies. “You took classes about us,” I...


I went out to L.A. to help or at least that’s what I’d hoped to do. My brother and I lost our father in January, his father-in-law passed in July. I’d house-sat and tended business while Ma was o...


“If she knows God-honest magic, though, why doesn’t she just make herself television-pretty?” I asked, “If that’s the only thing holding back her dream.” “For her, it’s not that easy,” Frank said...


I am no longer merely older than that age when celebrities die tragically to lock in their iconic beauty forever, some put it around twenty-seven, in fact I am almost too old to even be socially ...


He should’ve been in Southern California playing first-base for the Dodgers, had life gone the way it seemed into his teens, “Big Ben” Eisen then, nicknamed so for breaking the scoreboard clock w...


I’m not saying this is true or not, Frank couldn’t tell me either way himself, he could only repeat what he’d been told. The busking license his friend carried read “Cesar Zimmerman” a name he cl...


It wasn’t that she was ugly because she certainly was not, the problem was more simply that she wasn’t perfect. Looks are not the measure of a woman or a man, of course, but even if they were, by...


If you’re famous, on your death, some hack cartoonist will draw the shallowest representation of your life, standing at the gates of heaven. Even if you died at ninety, if the thing you’re famous...


Finally, Frank got back to the question of why I could see him as he was, a just-under-seven-foot tall sasquatch, when everyone else only saw a street-busker who’d left his costume on inside the ...


Frank Yetti woke up late in the morning most days, there weren’t enough tourists walking down Hollywood Boulevard at ten to make the effort worth it, especially on a weekday, so he afforded himse...


Still, even if I believed what Frank said, that there was a curse placed on what would eventually become Los Angeles, where you’ll see what you want to see unless you are insane, very high or unl...


She was beautiful, everyone around there was, that slightly sullen hiding how tired you are kind of beautiful you’d see in actresses and actors, beautiful like grocery-store produce kept ripe for...


There’s a million things to be said about picking up a semen analysis specimen as a medical courier, only a handful that could be shared in polite company. Most of the time, it was not as gross a...


The later in life that we succeed, the later we will collapse into success-sheltered self-parody, this is our artistic covenant. We are all better off without turning into DeNiro, taking every ro...


I was well-jaded to celebrity sightings at that point, working for the modestly famous myself. I wasn’t anyone, of course, just a gofer in a small production office, go for this, go for that but ...


In east Hollywood, at the corner of Sunset and Gower, there’s a strip-mall called Gower Gulch. Not everything is glamorous there, of course, most of the people are just trying to get by, not tryi...


Book Description

Wherein the typist quarantines the flash fiction about the Sasquatch and Los Angeles in case it can be stitched into something bigger.