My favorite part of this whole ghost hunting things was the access into rich peoples homes. The extravagantly wealthy — and having enough money to not only own a nice home in Los Angeles, but also shell out for something like a ghost hunting service undoubtedly was extravagant — had…

“Towel?” Sant asked. “Yes please,” I struggled back into my pants, nearly tripping. “You know I’m game for most things, but I don’t think I’ll be doing naked yoga again. I see a dangling scrotum or labia and force myself to look away, but then wonder if my aversion is…

This story is entirely in the first person, and I do my best to treat it journalistically with little to no embellishments, but for the sake of flow I’m going to have to take some liberties. Treat the next bit as purely speculative. “Great work today,” Ashleigh said to her…

The address on Ashleigh’s card belonged to a small and somewhat grungy yoga studio between Hollywood and Sunset. From the outside I couldn’t be sure if the grunge was a 90’s throwback ascetic or simple the truth of the studio’s upkeep. I arrived at 1:10 and tried the door but…

Santi strode confidently into the room and shrieked as he began to fall into the psychedelic abyss that had replaced the floor. “Shit!” He screamed, and then grunted as I caught him by the hips and held him. “Wow, Iz… how are you so strong?” “Because…” I said, panting, “I’m…

“What do we do?” I hissed to Santi. “Stop asking me that like I’m supposed to know,” he hissed back. “On top of everything else today I’d rather not add imposter syndrome.” We were crammed together uncomfortably under the kitchen island. Santi’s bony elbow was digging into my left ribs…

From the outside, this warehouse was remarkably like the warehouse we’d been in last night, but whether that was due to chance, the choice of the party promoters, or a basic fact of warehouse design I didn’t know. “We’re sold out,” said the man at the door when Arka and…

I drove us back to Los Feliz and was lucky enough to find a parking spot on Vermont. We got a booth at Fred 62, which was the ideal breakfast joint for the two of us. Their coffee was halfway decent and they made enough vegan food that Santi could…

The music was sort of a dark unnamable type of electronic dance music; not quite house, not really techno, too much of a rhythm to be called ambient. The crowd in the warehouse was great; mostly hot people in silly hats and face paint. …