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Cryptids on Staff - Loch Ness Monster

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The Loch Ness Monster emailed me directly. She told me that she was friends with my mother, and had something she needed to deliver on my mother’s behalf. We made arrangements to meet at a bar close to my home, someplace gloomy and discrete. Unlike Bigfoot, Nessie truly values her anonymity, fought tirelessly to protect it. There is a reason why no definitive photographs of Nessie have ever found their way into the public record.

The bar was dark, but I couldn’t miss her, stuffed in a corner wearing a giant trench coat and smoking a cigarette. I took a seat across from her at the table, and she slid a sealed envelope toward me. My name was written on the front in my mother’s distinct loopy cursive. I promised your mother I would give this to you someday, she said. Then she snuffed out her cigarette with her clawed flipper and lumbered away.


I looked at the envelope on the table, wondering what was in it. I assumed it was probably a letter, a letter that I wasn’t sure I wanted to read. I still haven't opened it. 

I like that envelope better as a mystery than knowing what truth waits inside. It’s more gratifying, I think, to have some mysteries left in the world.

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