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Nick Matsas

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2025

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73 Stories

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Lake Mini-Ha-Ha

Weekly Contest #362

The cherry bombs were handed to anyone Dennis deemed “cool,” so when Danny did not receive an illegal explosive, he took it personally, especially since girls were there. Even Manny received one, and Danny had seen Manny’s crap slide down his leg during a game of tackle football in Doug’s backyard. Danny did not protest; he had to pretend he had one, or that he was so cool he didn’t even notice he hadn’t received one, but Alex, who had also shit his pants during a game of tackle football, did protest.“Manny’s yellow turd dripped down his Mex...

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The Skeptical Children

Weekly Contest #361

A coiled mass of muscle whispered to one another beneath the canopy of the jungle. Images of home grew in the shade as the sun rose and tried to get a look at the starry-eyed soldiers who had fallen asleep during an artillery barrage. They spoke about their wives and girlfriends, and how easy life used to be. Both graduated from high school and played football. Both had never voted and had been drafted. Jacob said, “We’ll never be thanked for this,” and Robbie replied, “They never said there would be a reward.” They shared a kiss and stroked...

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Wyoming

Weekly Contest #361

Erum found men who made her happy, between bedsheets, sprawled naked across sand or a towel, under the sun or the moon. It was her first summer in Athens, and Greece was no exception to her good fortune. She liked John from the moment he pronounced her name correctly, “Ear-um,” Qamar, “Ka-Mar.” She met him in the market, wearing Mediterranean silks and waving a fan. Many assumed her short stature would shield her in such crowded places, but it actually prevented any wind from blowing across her dark skin and black hair, which she wore up in...

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A Little Further Back

Weekly Contest #359

Rather than being a symbol of pure virtue, Alex, an older, unmarried woman whose decades of strict chastity have hardened into a lifelong emotional battleground, is isolated. The self-imposed celibacy creates a defensive, bitter armor against long-deceased suitors, traitors, and heroes of her native South. The living in Milton, MS, have it much worse.She calls her neighbor, “Man-horse-demon,” despite her neighbor also being a woman, albeit a much younger woman who spends as much time reading in her rented studio as she does in her garden, bu...

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Never a Bride

Weekly Contest #358

Jessy GreerMay 22nd, 1979 Traditional social patterns are not lightly abandoned, and the tradition of male superiority dies hardest of all. When I moved to Athens, I spent a great deal of time with a charming young couple who had been married six months. I met them in a Kafeneion, among the trendy kibitzers who smoked filtered cigarettes and sported sideburns that would have made Tom Jones blush. The husband was a business executive, and I thought he had a thoroughly Western outlook. Yet, one day I heard him remark to his pregnant wife, “You...

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Anchors without Water

Weekly Contest #358

A snow flurry rides the crest of a silent brown sea, perpetuating the feeling of loneliness that sprouts from the weeds, grass, and dirt that cut through the white sky, the part of the canvas without a bird or brushstroke that could have lifted the dead feeling of winter as a gust of wind exposes the bone structure of the land: a surface that will lose its innocence regardless of whether it is touched.In a dream, there might have been a fence or power line beyond the hills, as if we had a hand in shaping what is seldom seen. From the porch o...

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Sailing Toward France

Weekly Contest #356

Big white clouds move in neat columns across a sunless, blue sky, like an assembly line of hope. My arm casts a shadow over the water, debris, and the terrace walls left behind, yet I cannot see a thing. My brain is mine, though I did not make it. Scientists have no words for their mysteries, and no one knows how they are constructed. The brain feels like a gift. Like they’ve been given to us, even though my brain is mine, a temporary stranger, a flash in the pan, and between those flashes, the darkness in the interval: The child in the womb...

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Matt Wallace has a Problem

Weekly Contest #356

She sits in the shade of the oak tree. A breeze does not disturb her curls and is just as gentle and delicate as her hands, turning a page of a cloth, hardcover book that makes her smile, and when she finishes the last sentence, that silence is beyond the hills, and the birds chirp, and the bees buzz. Dandelions sway under an eternal noon. That is how Manuel describes the painting he found before the lunch bell rang. Phillipe smiles. "Is there a carrot up your ass?.. How old do you think it is?" "Probably a hundred years," said Manuel. "Do...

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“I guess that makes me family," said Vinnie Caruso

Weekly Contest #355

Vinnie Caruso prefers to have his photo taken if there is a dead tiger around. So whoever is lucky enough to capture a glimpse of his life can assume he shoots cats. Not out of sport or defense, but out of pity, but not for the Tiger, for the word, pity, for pity leaves a good taste in the mouth with those who share his transatlantic accent that teeters to the right of Bermuda and to the left of Lord Mountbatten’s, assuming his Lordship is playing Admiral with the lads off the coast of pedophilia, where children come by the dozen.Vinnie does...

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Snow at the Yalu

Weekly Contest #355

Soldiers waited along the Yalu River, expecting an announcement from President Truman or General MacArthur at any time about their total victory in Korea. The Yalu was beautiful, but it brought no comfort. China, on the other side, and General MacArthur did not want the Chinese to enter the war, but he did so privately. He often requested permission to invade Manchuria, and would not reprimand anyone who might go in there and kick ass.The US-led UN forces pushed the invading KPA, or North Korean Army, from the Pusan Perimeter in south-east K...

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Without Fear, Picking Grapes

Weekly Contest #354

Dear Professor Dertouzos, I am angry, and it has been a long time since I recognized that. I think I deserve a better life, and if it is predetermined or a matter of choice, my choices have determined that I lead a lonely existence. Sometimes I think it is because I want to, because I believe it is easier. Every time I make a bad decision, it is out of an effort not to be a burden, and so I lie, which is much worse. Sometimes I believe I am paying for my crimes, and I see those who have done much worse and are surrounded by people, or at lea...

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Glorious, For a While

Weekly Contest #353

Darkness is the home of our vague fears and anxieties, but it is also the home of the Gods. Our lives contain “accidents,” which only exist in our heads. What proof is there that the five senses, together, allow us to participate in all possible experiences? We turn to Mother Earth and see her, but have long ago stopped listening, and even what we see, we filter into what we want to see; blooming California poppies, a newborn, and clear ocean waves, but only late at night, after beer, while you are woken up by Sarah Mclachlan’s “Angel,” that...

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"We're an American Band"

Weekly Contest #353

In 1874, the Owosso Argus-Press printed the headline:WHERE ARE THE TEETH OF JOE FOURNIER?The newspaper had a daily circulation of 1,000 copies, but it printed 1,000 more that morning, asking, “Where are the teeth of Joe Fournier?” and sold out by noon. Joe Fournier bought one copy on his way to Flint, Michigan. His fame had reached a fever pitch, and three months earlier, he had been charging $5 to see the rows of teeth in his mouth. The loggers had gotten a glimpse of his hyperdontia for just a quarter when Joe Fournier was a lumberjack. Re...

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The Aegean Sea is Blue Again

Weekly Contest #352

If the Devil did not exist, it would be necessary to invent him, as with taxes. How else could we afford bombs to drop on brown children who speak a language I don’t understand? Our leaders tell us, “Without bombs, pilates classes and rifle ranges will close,” and then what would we do? The only thing without an end is the present, and living in it, I have found eternity until I can no longer ignore the rain clouds of guilt that gather and give me a bath that is neither cleansing nor warm. I touch my forehead and can feel the distance I have...

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The Killer

Weekly Contest #352

A dull reddish glow emanates through her skin, enveloping her womb in light and shadow, a razor love that invites you right in.Myra Gayle Brown’s husband is on tour, and she is ready to join him. When she meets him at Heathrow Airport, she is hounded by the press. The Killer, her husband and cousin, Jerry Lee Lewis, says she is 15, even though she is actually 14. It causes a storm. He is a Great Ball of Fire and 22.The gossip columns call her the teenage tomb, and America no longer wants to boogie-woogie with Jerry Lee. Their baby is born. H...

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