Missed By An Inch by Dan BiegerSUMMARY: Flash Fiction Contest Entry"You say he was six foot three; can you put that in meters?"
"Since when did the International Brotherhood of Gnomes go metric?"
"Since you damned coyotes emigrated to Norway."
"We did that? I had no idea?."
"You covered all of North America in less than half a century; where else was there to go?"
"I would have thought South America."
"Evidently, they have higher standards than those Euros. Anyway, make it metric."
"Okay, six foot three is 75 inches; 2.54 centimeters to the inch: so write down that, carry the 2; divide by x and y equals damned near 2000 millimeters. No...wait...my mistake. Sorry! That's damned near 2000 millimetres."
"More than 2 metres? You have got to be kidding me. Pixies don't come in that elevation."
"Hey, what do I know? He said she was a pixie. I mean I just arrived here in the Village and the first thing that happens is a pixy. The next thing that happens is that you gnomes have taken over the police work in the underbelly"
"When did she tell you that, that she was a pixy?"
"Right after she kissed me."
"Oh, for Mab's sake! You're a bitch coyote?"
"If I was male, would I be dressed like this?"
"You can quit admiring your tail; I've seen tails before. Now, what's your specific complaint?"
"Well, he kissed and ran. That's impolite, discourteous, and downright rude."
"If he was really a pixy; then he was a she and that's what they do: kiss and run."
"Well, what kind of deal is that? No self-respecting coyote would kiss and run. A coyote would stick around to see how far he could make it go. A girl gets used to that kind of thing, you know. Comes to expect it, really."
"Well, that's what pixies do so there wouldn't be much sense trying to push that as an offense. Might as well accuse a coyote of skulking..."
"Hmmph! Coyotes do not skulk; we move with a certain stealth, a finesse that lesser beings seem to envy."
"Skulking, stealth, a rose by any other name, you know? Anyway, let's get back to the case. I've already mentioned that pixies do not attain 2 metres. Ergo, your phantom kisser was not a pixie. So, tell me something else about her."
"He...she was invisible; there is nothing else to tell."
"Invisible, right. Then how in Mordor do you know she was over 2 metres?"
"Well...er...umh..."
"C'mon, lady. You couldn't see her; what makes you think she was over 2 metres?"
"She...said...so."
"Oh, really? That makes a whole different picture, doesn't it? Suppose you tell me from the beginning exactly what happened."
"Well, I was in Doc Holliday's enjoying their all-you-can-drink special even though I don't much care for their beer selection. I'm from Colorado, you know, and we have more refined taste in Colorado."
"Go on."
"Well, the juke box had just rolled off Goodbye, Ear and I decided my nose lacked sufficient powder. Just as I cleared the door to the ladies' room, this being grabbed me and kissed me. I had to look way, way up to let that happen so I asked just how tall this being was. The voice said ‘six three.' I complimented the being on its technique – I thought it was a pretty decent kiss and I thought the being ought to know I thought so. I'm not one of those rude persons who can never tend a compliment; I just spout them whenever I think they're deserved - and then I asked what kind of being it might be. The voice said ‘pixy.'"
"You're certain the voice said ‘pixy'?"
"What else could it have been? Sure, I Want to Check You For Ticks was playing and every guy in the house was doing karaoke at the top of their voices but I am a coyote and we coyotes have phenomenal hearing."
"What else it could have been was pisces. There are a lot of those running around the Village this time of year. It's their cycle I guess."
"A pisces? I don't understand."
"You were kissed by a fish."
"A six foot three fish?"
"Yeah, I know; folks always lie about the size of the one that got away."
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