by Nick Matsas
The deer stand against a pink-and-blue sky that staccatos between the clouds like water in rice fields, atop a dark green hill that retains its color regardless of the sun. Another inch forward, and a twig snaps. The doe is gone. They are prey and never forget it. A fawn looks for its mother. A fawn is seen through a viewfinder.
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Nick Matsas is a published author and plumber. His work can be found in 3elemental Review, Beyond Words Magazine, and Aquarium Drunkard. His plumbing can be found in hospitals, assisted living facilities, and convention centers. He was born in Chicago and lives in Los Angeles.
20260530
20250911
Oh, You
by Amanda Mather
I've recently been seeing a man who compliments me constantly. In the two weeks since we started talking, he has called me beautiful, smart, sexy, hot, gorgeous, fucking gorgeous, mesmerizing, a goddess. On our dates, he often interrupts me (which I hate) to say I have beautiful eyes or a great smile (which I love, so it mostly evens out). He says he can tell I love to be adored, which is a true thing I think I should dislike about myself but don't. I know he's laying it on thick, but somehow when he says I have the smallest waist, I believe him more than I believe my own pants. That's the thing I dislike about myself: not my love of romantic adoration, but how easily I buy it and how utterly it sways me when little else can.
6S
Amanda Mather is a writer and data analyst living in Portland, Oregon. Her work is published here and nowhere else. Really, you’re lucky to be reading her at all.
I've recently been seeing a man who compliments me constantly. In the two weeks since we started talking, he has called me beautiful, smart, sexy, hot, gorgeous, fucking gorgeous, mesmerizing, a goddess. On our dates, he often interrupts me (which I hate) to say I have beautiful eyes or a great smile (which I love, so it mostly evens out). He says he can tell I love to be adored, which is a true thing I think I should dislike about myself but don't. I know he's laying it on thick, but somehow when he says I have the smallest waist, I believe him more than I believe my own pants. That's the thing I dislike about myself: not my love of romantic adoration, but how easily I buy it and how utterly it sways me when little else can.
6S
Amanda Mather is a writer and data analyst living in Portland, Oregon. Her work is published here and nowhere else. Really, you’re lucky to be reading her at all.
Posted by
Robert McEvily
20250903
Feeling a Little Lost
by Robert Ludemann
I would like to feel just once how fast we are really moving. The earth spinning at over a 1,000 mph, orbiting the sun at over 65,000 mph! The Milky Way rotating at over 450,000 mph, the galaxy itself moving at over a million mph. But Albert won’t let me get even a taste of it, denied! I'm not a speed freak, never a speeding ticket once in my life. But I think if I could just get a sense of it all, I could possibly see that we are making progress, headed in the right direction.
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Robert Ludemann is happily retired and using writing as a chance to avoid responsibility.
I would like to feel just once how fast we are really moving. The earth spinning at over a 1,000 mph, orbiting the sun at over 65,000 mph! The Milky Way rotating at over 450,000 mph, the galaxy itself moving at over a million mph. But Albert won’t let me get even a taste of it, denied! I'm not a speed freak, never a speeding ticket once in my life. But I think if I could just get a sense of it all, I could possibly see that we are making progress, headed in the right direction.
6S
Robert Ludemann is happily retired and using writing as a chance to avoid responsibility.
Posted by
Robert McEvily
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