by John S
Flash fiction about one man's fall from grace.
|Henry’s fall from grace was swift and brutal. In the time it had taken him to drive from Las Vegas back to LA. His name had been dragged through the mud a thousand times over. As a Hollywood insider he should have known better. All those years of producing and directing were all down the drain because of one boozy interview.
The interviewer had seemed harmless enough, he looked like a kid just out of college. The big news of the day, if you wanted to call it news, was that star of the screen, Blake Donald had called the President of the United States an idiot. Henry wasn’t a real big fan of the President, but he took exception to Blake Donald calling anyone an idiot. It was well known that Blake was as dumb as a rock and Henry said it in the interview. Like most Hollywood stars Blake was a pampered moron who couldn’t get a job at Wal-Mart. Good looks and good writers had gotten them where they were. Why did these people, who could only read lines others had given them, think that they could solve all the world’s problems? Most of the stars Henry had worked with were barely able to find the toilet without three assistants. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that in the interview, but six scotches made him fearless.
Once home in LA he couldn’t even get work in television. His fifth wife left him, he lost his house, he even had to fence one of his Oscars. Whoever said, “you’ll never work in this town again” must have been talking to Henry.
Then something funny happened. He left LA for the Midwest and wrote for a small newspaper. People were actually nice to each other. He loved it.