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Flash Fictions
Hamburger Magic
Having realized that magic had become a dull and obvious profession, Gloria, whose fastest desire was to become a worldly magician, searched for an innovation. From disappearing critters to clairvoyant astrology to sexual fruit hiding, all the usual acts had been packed with hack magicians for decades. When she was ten, Gloria lost her left pinky to a stabbing sword during one of these hack’s act. The shame of a four-fingered hand kept her wearing gloves at all times, during swimming lessons and finger painting. So in its place she had sewn a hot dog, which functioned as a surrogate digit until it began to rot. Since then she had also been fascinated with meat. Articles on everything from cows grazing to the marketing of ham in fun cartoon shapes gathered to plot an overthrow under her bed. Perhaps it was this food flesh obsession that coaxed her to stop at the butcher and purchase 18 pounds of cheap one-day out-of-date ground chuck. At the time of impulse she had no reason for buying the browning hamburger. But on the weaving drive back to her house in the hills left of town, Gloria uncovered a form of magic unpracticed. Her car’s slamming brake stop before clipping a Texas armadillo threw most of the chuck to the floor, covering her costume shop wand, hat and cloak.
These are stories about towels....(part one)
There is precisely one and one quarter inch between the middle fold of each Supima plush towel and the deluxe satin divider separating each of the nine available colors. Although the names of the colors change yearly, the actual hues and tones of the towels are alarmingly pedestrian. The man who creates these names lives twelve feet from the towel factory, in a small round house, the last footprint of the naval training facility that once weighed down this landscape. Its curving hallways are stacked with Victorian era newspapers and five-hundred glossy copies of the March 1964 Scientific American. He says the contrast between the romanticized past and the only known article on the mechanical wonders of the Plushnell reordering machine stimulates his creative and marketing centers.
Raising rabbits is not easy. No, no it's really not. If you get scared, e-mail me and I'll calm you down. Things being what things being.
