Flash Fiction #124 (Exactly 124 Words): Masculine Side

For part one, click here. These two sentences don’t count toward the 124-word total.–DVM

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I didn’t really care about transgenderism until four years ago. That’s when my brother Caleb sent everyone, including me, a text announcing, first, that he had started “transitioning” so his outside could match what he felt like inside. And second, that we should start referring to him by a female name he’d given.

If “OK groomer” had been a thing back then, I would have texted that to him, I was so angry. Instead, I didn’t text him anything. Though I did wonder if, during his childhood, the family should have encouraged him to embrace his masculine side more? Like, watch the Steelers with us? Or watch superhero movies? Watching the right stuff can prevent you from ruining your life. And everyone else’s life.

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I don’t share the narrator’s bigoted beliefs. These two sentences don’t count toward the 124-word total, either.–DVM

Copyright © 2023 by David V. Matthews

March 26, 2023

Flash Fiction #123 (Exactly 123 Words): ALWAYS WITH LOVE

My sister Bethany, the rabid right-winger, has started referring to herself on her TikTok channel as “O.T.: the Original Tradwife.” She got married straight out of high school a decade ago to her troglodytic boyfriend. She has five children with a sixth on the way. She homeschools her kids, because she doesn’t want what she calls “the woke virus” to infect them. She also beats them with a thick wooden paddle that says ALWAYS WITH LOVE. She never goes out except to church. She used to go to the supermarket every week, but now she has everything home-delivered, the best way to avoid libs and criminals.

Maybe none of her kids will grow up to die from a heroin overdose—foolish optimism, right?

Copyright © 2023 by David V. Matthews

March 23, 2023

(In other words, #123 on 3/23/23. I hadn’t consciously planned it that way.)

Flash Fiction #122 (Exactly 122 Words): That’s My Brand

“Y’know, the GOP could kill everyone who votes Democrat. And the Dems in charge, they’d do nothin’ but yawn and continue playing Candy Crush on their phones.”

“What have you got against Candy Crush?”

“Nothin’.”

“Then why—”

Any game. The Oregon Trail, whatever. Y’wanna know why the Dems in charge wouldn’t care if their base got wiped out?”

“Sure.”

“Because they don’t care about nothin’ except keeping the rich happy.”

“Just like the Republicans, yeah yeah, I get it.”

“No you don’t. The Republicans don’t even pretend to like you. The Democrats, they gotta pretend, ’cause that’s their brand.”

“Then that makes you a super-Republican, ’cause you hate everyone.”

“No. I hate everyone ’cause I have a brain. That’s my brand.”

Copyright © 2023 by David V. Matthews

March 9, 2023 (revised a little March 10, 2023)

Goddess Help Her

Time for another incongruous illustration.

Following the Supreme Court’s Dobbs decision, Hannah tweeted that she had never told anyone other than a few close friends this, but three years earlier, during her freshman year of college, she’d had an abortion during her tenth week of pregnancy, her first pregnancy, and that she considered choosing to undergo that health-care procedure the best decision of her life, because that decision prevented her from having an unwanted child and more likely than not making that child’s life miserable because the child would have symbolized Hannah’s thwarted ambitions, resulting in, despite Hannah’s best intentions, sheer loathing of said child, not to mention sheer self-loathing; now Hannah could finish college and pursue a career and care for any wanted children she might someday bring into the world.

After that tweet, however, her brother Logan somehow found out which clinic she had used. He then sued the clinic under Texas law—she lived in Austin, he in Abilene—for performing an abortion after six weeks. He won his case, receiving a ten-thousand dollar reward, as the law allowed, and helping drive the clinic, one of the few that still performed abortions in that state, out of business, though by the time the clinic closed permanently, she had stopped speaking to him, had even blocked him on social media, though after their father’s funeral in Abilene, standing alone by the grave, the first time they’d seen each other in eight years, she did mutter “Hey” to him. Without exchanging a greeting, Logan told her nothing personal about that abortion stuff, he had never really cared one way or the other that she’d terminated her pregnancy, and he still didn’t care, but he’d needed to pay off the rest of his pickup truck loan, totaling ten grand coincidentally enough, a pretty good pickup, no mechanical issues unlike his previous trucks, plus the finance company had kept harassing him, even threatening to sue him. Sorry.

She found him more reprehensible than ever but, Goddess help her, for the first time since the lawsuit, also sort of sympathetic. He never could budget his money. And as she knew from personal experience, sticking to a budget in this capitalist economy posed myriad difficulties.

Copyright © 2022 by David V. Matthews

November 7, 2022

Flash Fiction #121 (Exactly 121 Words): Good News for the Human Race

The musical combo Sparks once released a song called “Tryouts for the Human Race” and an album called Balls, though neither product has inspired the following fiction-related content from Matthews Creative Industries, a subsidiary of Stinky Sam’s Used Llama Emporium.

“Y’wanna know why the Democrats are gonna lose big this election day?”

“Crime? Inflation?”

“Nope. They’re too freaking nice. Republicans, on the other hand, are mean as hell. Even when they look nice, they always act like they wanna stomp your balls into the ground, no matter who you are. But voters don’t mind. If you’re mean, you usually have power, and voters love power. They respect power. No PC crap, just punch down and punch hard.”

“Sounds a little like S&M.”

“It’s a lot like S&M.”

“Right. So how about you? Do you like having your balls stomped into the ground?”

“No. I wanna keep them healthy. I might have children someday.”

“Well, that’s good news for the human race.”

Copyright © 2022 by David V. Matthews

November 4-5, 2022

Flash Fiction #120 (Exactly 120 Words): Don’t Ever Change, Dude

“You heard Victoria’s Secret’s hired a model with Down Syndrome?”

“Yup. That’s great. Now we can jerk off to the handicapped outside of porn.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. Women need something, now that they don’t have abortion rights no more.”

“Since when have you cared about abortion rights?”

“Since a little something called child support, that’s when.”

“You need to have sex with a woman first before worrying about that.”

“I do have sex with women. Just ask your mom.”

“I did. She projectile-vomited. Which means you must have banged her.”

“I also banged your grandma.”

“Oh really? When?”

“Last week.”

“She died five years ago.”

“Well, no wonder she was such a great lay.”

“Don’t ever change, dude.”

Copyright © 2022 by David V. Matthews

February 17, 2022

Flash Fiction #119 (Exactly 119 Words): As Soon as Possible by My Standards (Part One)

My mother the Baptist fanatic, who hadn’t spoken to me since I’d come out as a gay man eighteen years earlier, left me a voicemail telling me that with “the passage of time,” she now accepted my “lifestyle” and hoped we could “patch things up as soon as possible.”

“All right, Mom, what do you want?” I asked when I called her a week later (as soon as possible by my standards).

“Nothing,” she replied. “I’ve changed.”

“Congratulations.”

I agreed to meet her for lunch sometime.

“She must have eaten her first pussy,” my husband speculated later.

If so, hooray for new experiences, though rebooting a relationship can make you pine for the previous script and its well-rehearsed predictability.

Copyright © 2022 by David V. Matthews

January 17, 2022

Flash Fiction #118 (Exactly 118 Words): Blocheads

Stopping at Target and seeing the empty shelves due to the COVID-related supply chain disruptions, I joked to my girlfriend that we lived in the Eastern Bloc now, causing her to respond in a non-joking manner that good thing we had, in her words, “turned into Blocheads,” because, first, the American desire for cheap, bountiful consumer products had driven down wages and destroyed the environment; and, second, those Communist countries at least had generous social programs and no, again in her words, “religious crap,” though of course other crap had existed. Every ideology has its crap, she added matter-of-factly. (She’d taken Cold War History in college, taught by a professor so radical, he wore ragged jeans to class.)

Copyright © 2022 by David V. Matthews

January 17, 2022