Matthew Harris

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2019

Stories (24)

24 Stories

295 karma pts

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“Mine shotgun (wedding) sheep push hilly herd round the wool, wide web.” by Matthew Harris

Preface, (albeit poetically pockmarked titled):Oy gevalt - moi ongepotchket married life,I immediately did kvetchsince sorry excuse for sex pistolmade successful pollination obligatory mandateconcealed within thatched vetchcombining guaranteeing harvesting top notch wretch.Rutting season (24/7/365 days) touted me beingbiologically, effectively, and irresistibly virile - yayonce thy future spouse (Abby Robin)found herself in the family waywith what would turn out ...

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“Wren during newlife woof fly at warp speed” by Matthew Harris

This preface so real (profess aerial), yours truly chokingly (chicken or egg thing) conceived in sin (rated quirkiness), i.e. Cincinnati, Ohio (asthma most up to date version of Matthew Scott). Any attempt for garden variety generic fecund woman (applicable to mother dearest back during her pro creative years), whose departure early May 2020 delineates fifteen blockchain twelve month calendrical time spans) tries to successfully counteract biologic reproductive force to whit deserves grudging testes meant to garner at least tidbit pr...

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“ Establishing New Year's resolutions for me, a geek wedded Jew pitter = Big fat Nyat!” by Matthew Harris

Lemme tell you about a fail safe stratagem of one dishabille smart ass dummy, who snubbed practice sustaining New Year's resolutions. His unbridled integrity, fidelity, and capacity (read no nonsense honorable devotee) lifetime staunch aversion toward global December thirty first aspirations contravenes (against sic establishmentarian coda) spelt general outline for his ignominious humiliating, yet grandiose failure existing for other diehard human flotsam and jetsam to emulate. Thus informal membership among fellow coterie comprisin...

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“Trackless across snowbound tract” by Matthew Harris

During the next couple of weeks, I will house and pet sit for my lucky parents. They won topnotch prize all expense paid month long getaway. Aforementioned well deserved escapade courtesy me, their aspiring paperback book writing son. No sooner did their plane taxi off the runway piloted toward lost horizon (bound for warmer clime bajillion miles away), then intimations of sadness arose. A sudden pang for their presence to fill immediate profound absence arose. Tears streaming down my face, I sojourned back to 324 Level Road and to k...

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“Alone within emotionally illusory dynamic fluid wilderness new years eve 2019” by Matthew Harris

A reverie along memory lane bubbles forth, when this grr wreck oh row man (figuratively perched high atop totem pole - paddles - secured within oarlocks), while he serenely quizzically, lackadaisically, and harmoniously drifted merrily thru LX orbitz around the sun. Obliviousness wafted with zealous laissez faire devil may care attitude. Pointlessness against cavil leer mindset (regarding roaming as sea sunned bonafide Nova Scotian fish she ate while off Newfoundland) blissfully carried yours truly along slipstream of timelessness since ...

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“Nonpareil education opens door to invaluable reunion” by Matthew Harris

Back far as I can remember, yours truly always wanted a sister. Adopted y most resplendent mother since birth, I never met, nor knew biological kith and/or kin existed. Passage of time diminished fervent hankering, yet every now and again curiosity flickered regarding biologically related kindred folks. Unbeknownst to this narrator, an equally strong pang inspired Miss Ann Thrope. Ever since she became aware of how her biological sibling got adopted courtesy separate adoptive parents, her near lifelong mission impossible comprised tr...

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“Mama mia goo goo lady gaga poker face mother dearest and manchild finally free” by Matthew Harris

(Otherwise known within esoteric circles as pop's slop Potchki pastiche thicker than Pudd'nhead Wilson). Analogous to a baby suddenly aware with inquisitiveness, puzzlement, unbridled world wide webbed wonderment regarding his immediate physical world for the first time, I too felt (not ironically enough) silenced, slack jawed, and spellbound upon initial lifetime behind bars. Youngest ever locked up prisoner released after being sequestered away in solitary confinement (consequent being conceived inside uterus teen mom prior t...

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“Straightaway to Homo sapiens selfmade obsolescence” by Matthew Harris

After approximately two dozen plus years of marriage (yup to the same woman - lemme tell Ripley yea hard to believe), both myself and the missus accepted fair equitable contract before agreement to parting ways. We sought assistance drafting post nuptial document pro bono courtesy namely one Richard Marlin Perkins (March 28, 1905 – June 14, 1986), an American zoologist best known as a host of the television program Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom from 1963 to 1985. Me thought what a wonderful world cue Louis Daniel Armstro...

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“"Leaping Leiper!" Original blueprints of "Glen Elm." Modified to more cents able search” by Matthew Harris

Poetic preface:Thy childhood home(Tempus fugit doth not healhollowed grief only death will seal.)Synonymous with fragile hulkanchored off shoreher frail exterior, no longer bows with sternweight beckoning with yenat suffering being weather beatensince about nineteen tenembodying painstaking craftsmanshipway back when...effort to build enduring domicileruled as blueprint for den,not necessarily of thieves,but extraordinary rich n hard f...

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“Yum gobble gobble went Jake...” by Matthew Harris

His beady eyes espied Jenny. She snood out amidst flock. They got hatched and raised in close proximity. Hens, no surprise when figurative young Turks spent entire growing years together, they developed mutual attraction for each other. Thus come Thanksgiving holiday months later, they fluffed respective tail feathers, which obvious amorousness ran a fowl regarding grown turkeys ill fated cruel fourth Thursday of November.Such overt displays of attraction did not go unnoticed! Quite the contrary! Diligent paragon of...

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“Buried Sunk ‘n Treasure skyrocketed dirt poor vagabond!” by Matthew Harris

Rumor persisted and fanned courtesy - fuel of exaggeration by yours truly. Word of mouth thru generations this tract of real estate once trumpeted barren open space. An overactive imagination whet the fancy of an even number of oddballs yours truly included. One after another rapt listener unwittingly elaborated, vis a vis master charging adding slight embellishment here and there. Within figurative wiggle of earlobe initial story materialized into mouth watering, eye opening, nose twitching, et cetera mythic legend. Analogous, high ...

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“Smile on this antithesis arriviste of your unknown brethren” by Matthew Harris

No matter M. Scott Harris considered one amazingly graceful author of Schwenksville's, a promising (albeit late blooming) up and coming early twenty first century prolific wordsmith, nonetheless he feels dogged (deep teeth marks will prove claim) every step of his way to success. Inexplicable to him, why language spell binding (to him) in general, and English words in particular. Similar to launching writing career, said scrivener also finds the art of taking pictures, especially healthy nature flora and fauna fascinating. Since marr...

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“This all started courtesy Kuritsky car ruckus in Venezuela...” by Matthew Harris

Brought about my premature birth, or so the story goes. Youngest of four involved in crash test dummy with hit or miss, and run. Vehicle subsequently deemed most fit for scrap metal. What a bang up job the wrecked automobile, which importantly gave life to the following anecdote. Hence, I pieced, stitched, and wove together tidbit of information, and resorted to fabrication only when necessary lack of information available to recount my purported debut into the world of mortals. Though deep into January (thirteenth tubby exact – thir...

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“Sturm und drang within Mouse a' Leanie” by Matthew Harris

Preface: Tabby wandering upon mine twinkle toes (woozy after drinking excess Boozie), this stray wrist took cat attired with trademark funereal black swallowtails quietly saunters (on faux paws) with somber self importance. Yours truly relegated Topeka outlook around outer limits of Katmandu, especially smug with knowledge that paganistic superstitions still maintain tide score in tandem with rubric (and mortar) accepted organized religion. This nearly twenty Earth orbitz within demarcated (Gregorian calendar) twenty first century af...

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“Christopher Porter And Me circa mid ‘60’s” by Matthew Harris

Jeesh...how the bindery housing the living moldy pages of this bookish fellow seem to flip by with ever increasing rapidity at a faster pace, particularly with each subsequent orbit Earth completed around the sun. Methought then (when just a wee lad) thee oblate spheroid planet Earth gradually shifted closer to sun eventually... Nevertheless, I could never foretell (predict) when remembrance viz series of unfortunate events occurred. Yours truly just a fraction his (mine) current age when misadventures elapsed. Odd also that unprompt...

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