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Just trying to have some fun with it // None of this is meant to be taken seriously // srm5082@gmail.com // www.scottmuska.com

Memory is selective.

Photo by Hanxiao on Unsplash

I can’t tell you what color socks I wore yesterday but I can tell you what it felt like when someone I used to love or think I loved pointed out that I was so afraid of intimacy that I couldn’t commit to a pair of socks. It didn’t feel…

Flash Fiction.

I certainly didn’t teach the aliens everything they knew.

That’d be a ridiculous statement to make.

They had me beat on technology. That’s for sure.

But I did teach them a lot once they got here.

All kinds of things.

I’m unsure, of course, why they chose me, specifically.

Seems…

Flash Fiction about a cult and sports drink, among other things.

Photo by ALEXANDRE LALLEMAND on Unsplash

I stumble quickly and loudly out of my room on my way to vomit.

When I finish in the restroom he’s on the couch already ripping into a 12-pack and says I should try mixing a Cool Blue Gatorade half-and-half with some orange juice (hold the pulp), chug it, then…

Flash Fiction.

Photo by Mitchell Orr on Unsplash

You should have seen them run.

People who probably — from the looks of things as they formed a low-level and slow-moving stampede down the street, heading west, trying to get as inland as they could, because it was coming from the bay, or at least somewhere around there, in…

For some reason it keeps getting rejected.

Photo by Tim Goedhart on Unsplash

It’s great to be mindful and live in the moment, sure, but it’s also important to have some foresight. Like, you should always order another Whopper for the next day, especially if you’re going to have a heavy night. You’ll need it. Trust me.

Life isn’t about the number of…

A brief primer on letting it out.

Photo by Tom Pumford on Unsplash

Sometimes you just need to have a good cry.

Maybe you’ve lost someone you love. Maybe life isn’t going the way you thought it would, and you’re feeling a little bit powerless to change your trajectory. Perhaps your job sucks. Could be you hurt someone or yourself. …

An ode to “PS I Love You,” a writing home without which I fear I’ll be more lost than ever.

Photo by Patrick Fore on Unsplash

I have a hard time letting go of things.

Always have.

From the ephemeral to the more lasting and persistent, truly moving on has never been one of my strong suits.

I tend to fall in love with ideas and people and sometimes the ideas of people, and to commemorate…

We used to be carried in the arms of cheerleaders.

Photo by Rangarajan Ragunathan on Unsplash

That summer I was working at one of those Taco Bell / Pizza Hut hybrids and I’d tell people (many would of course ask) that I just simply liked to Líve Mas and one way of doing so were continuous attempts to truly Outpizza The Hut — that I liked…

She warns me that sometimes she gets car sick.

Photo by Dan Gold on Unsplash

We’re on our third round of daiquiris, the legit kind, when I confide to Sophie this is my first time ever having legit daiquiris and I now know that I fucking love them — that they are delicious and a great delivery mechanism for alcohol.

Before this evening I’ve only…

A short story about an atypical initial meeting.

Photo by Thought Catalog on Unsplash

We’re halfway through our second drink when during a brief lull in the conversation she takes a biggish sip from her pint, turns toward me and says, “You know what? I almost didn’t come tonight, to be honest. I feel like we can be honest, right? I thought about doing…

Scott Muska

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