by R.K. West
Jennifer thought it would be fun to write erotica under a pen name, so she carefully studied everything she found online. Soon she had a go-to list of salient adjectives: slick, firm, moist, tender, throbbing, hungry, insistent, and – if necessary --- engorged. The verbs came easily: slide, caress, submit, thrust, gasp, pound, quiver, melt. She was still too shy to write meaningful nouns and in the early drafts used popular euphemisms as temporary placeholders: manhood, flower, bosom, mound. She avoided obvious porn cliches, rejecting the friendly pizza delivery man, the lusty plumber, the naughty nurse, and the pretty girls who suddenly get excited by each other. The stern schoolmaster was tempting, but she wasn’t writing confessions, after all.
6S
R.K. West lives in the Pacific Northwest, writing flash fiction and indignant but anonymous blog posts.
20250407
20250406
Empty Coat
by Brad Rose
Inside my clothes, my clothes are asleep, inside-out. I’m making a silent movie of the world. In it, the sky is lost in its deep haze and the clouds are about to ignite. I’m as vacant as an unworn overcoat. Nothing inside, no strings attached, even the things I know, remain largely unknown; so, I perform small acts of first aid— little incisions here and there, just to tide me over. It would be a shame to let all this anesthesia go to waste.
6S
Brad Rose's latest book is I Wouldn’t Say That, Exactly.
Inside my clothes, my clothes are asleep, inside-out. I’m making a silent movie of the world. In it, the sky is lost in its deep haze and the clouds are about to ignite. I’m as vacant as an unworn overcoat. Nothing inside, no strings attached, even the things I know, remain largely unknown; so, I perform small acts of first aid— little incisions here and there, just to tide me over. It would be a shame to let all this anesthesia go to waste.
6S
Brad Rose's latest book is I Wouldn’t Say That, Exactly.
Posted by
Robert McEvily
20250405
Pizza Money
by Thomas Gold
Every Friday in fifth grade, Michael’s mom gave him five bucks for a slice and a soda, just like all the other kids. But Michael never once walked with the crowd to Tony’s Pizzeria—he pocketed the cash, ate from home, and spent lunch scribbling plans in a spiral notebook. While the others cracked jokes over greasy napkins, he mowed lawns, tutored math, and built a computer from parts he bought himself. Years passed, and Michael’s dreams grew tall while his circle of friends stayed small. Decades later, he returned to the old neighborhood in a sleek black car, slipping into Tony’s for a slice he never used to buy. He sat alone and ate quietly.
6S
Thomas Gold owns his own business.
Every Friday in fifth grade, Michael’s mom gave him five bucks for a slice and a soda, just like all the other kids. But Michael never once walked with the crowd to Tony’s Pizzeria—he pocketed the cash, ate from home, and spent lunch scribbling plans in a spiral notebook. While the others cracked jokes over greasy napkins, he mowed lawns, tutored math, and built a computer from parts he bought himself. Years passed, and Michael’s dreams grew tall while his circle of friends stayed small. Decades later, he returned to the old neighborhood in a sleek black car, slipping into Tony’s for a slice he never used to buy. He sat alone and ate quietly.
6S
Thomas Gold owns his own business.
Posted by
Robert McEvily
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