Friday Fictioneers – Life In A Northern Town

Author’s Note: Welcome back for another week. Since the week isn’t over, and tomorrow’s not a busy day, my next major story will hopefully be ready to go. Otherwise, enjoy this tune. For note, the picture below is courtesy of the man who got me blogging again, Mr. David Stewart at the Green Walled Tower

copyright – David Stewart

Life In A Northern Town

by Miles H. Rost

It wasn’t a normal day. The old timers in the band were finishing up their practice a bit later than they should have, and were not really interested in taking time with the stragglers outside the gazebo.

“…but we love your work! We’re your greatest fans!” two young children ran up, getting close to one of the tuba players.

“You’re my grandchildren! Of course you’re gonna be my greatest fans!” the crotchety old tubist replied, trying to get away.

“Lars! Get home this instant, your swedish meatballs are getting cold!” another older woman called, in a near scream.

“I’ll be there in a moment, Helga! Stop breaking the glass!”

Simple life, in a Northern town.

Friday Fictioneers – Fairy’s Love Song

Author’s Note: Back again after a week where things went really weird, and having no time to post before today, I am back with a Fictioneers special! I shall have more coming soon, so keep your eye. And if you haven’t read the story “Angel In The Snow” yet, please do so. It’s one of the few that I really plan on expanding down the line, and could use good feedback.

Copyright – Rachel Bjerke

The Fairy’s Call

by Miles H. Rost

Harry MacInnes brushed his hands on the moss-covered fountain, muttering to himself at just how much cleanup it needed.

He pulled out his brushes and de-mossing tools, carefully scraping and removing the green from the stonework. He was intent into his work, and didn’t notice a small voice creep up behind him.

“Hi!”

“GYAH!” he exclaimed, as he jumped nearly out of his skin.

“I see you’re cleaning up the area!” the voice said, coming from the mouth of a small but quite beautiful sprite.

“All places need attention,” he said, matter of factly, “This one should be restored.”

The sprite clapped and smiled.

“Because you’re doing so, I am going to grant you a wish in gratitude! What would you wish for?”

He looked at the sprite, thought for a moment, then smiled what one would consider an almost evil smile.

I’d wish for you to be my wife.”

The sprite’s jaw dropped, and her eyes went wide. This…was not in the cards…

Angel In The Snow

Angel In The Snow
by Miles H. Rost

The Witch of Winter. Snow fairy. The Winter Wife. Yuki-Onna.

She was called many different names from the time of her youth, referred to in legends. She was one of many, but not as many as others. She wasn’t a monster,though, like what many people thought.

Her skin was a beautiful alabaster, her hair nearly crystalline in appearance. Out of the sun, it looked a beautiful strawberry blonde color. She was dressed in a shorter yukata that came down to the knees, colored white, with broad and wide sleeves, along with a salmon-colored sash across her waist. To the uninitiated eye, she would have been described as a young, teenaged beauty.

However, to quote Bob Dylan, “The times they are a-changin’.” With the internet, more people found out and knew about the legend of the Yuki-Onna. As a result, more people were scared, or were fascinated but didn’t do anything about it as human instinct is to avoid things that mean death.

She remembered hearing about the stories from her mother. While there were many who took to the traditional way of freezing their mates to death, and joining them in whatever afterlife there was, she wasn’t one who would do that. She was different, and to her kind, an outcast. She wanted what the humans had.

She sat on a cliff, overlooking a lake that was thawing. She sighed as she kept thinking about her love, whoever he was. She looked at the melting snow,  a sign of the springtime that was to come and the summer that would be tough. She thought about leaving her native land, going to a new land where she may be more accepted. She heard about the Australian snow fairies, who make their homes in the highlands of the east coast; and even the Rocky Mountain Yuki-Onna, the rare and yet most striking of the snow fairies in the mountains of America and Canada.

She didn’t have the income to move, however. Because of this realization, she slid further into her reflections. She sighed as a slight chilly air flowed from her mouth into the air.

She heard a slight crunching behind her, and she immediately shifted around to see who was coming. She waited, patiently, hearing the slow movement of rock and the groaning of someone who sounded quite masculine. Waiting patiently, she sat placidly as the form of the newcomer came into view.

The man was brown-haired, young, and a slight bit overweight. He didn’t look unhealthy, but he could easily shed a few pounds if he so chose. He reached the overlook where she was and sat down.

“Hello there, love. Looks like…WHOA-!”

He looked over the lake, the beauty of it all flowing into his eyes and piercing his brain. The deep blue of the lake, contrasted with the grayish white of the melting sheets of ice, and the deep, dark green evergreen trees that blanketed the landscape. The sun shone in rays and peaks from around the needles of the trees, creating a near-kaleidoscope effect to a person’s eye.

In the young man’s eyes, this was intense beauty. He smiled broadly, as he pulled out his expensive camera and started taking shots. The young beauty sitting close to his feet was in awe at how engrossed he was in the scenery, many thoughts and questions running through her mind.

“You…like nature?” she asked him.

He looked down and grinned.

“Absolutely! I have never seen or experienced such beauty since I look out from Cape Blanco in Oregon, in the USA. This is the essence of Japan, and I now have a piece of it for my memories. Now, since I’m done gushing over nature’s beauty, how about you?”

She looked down, demurely, trying to hide the embarrassment of having this foreigner’s attention on her.

“The name’s Tom. Tom Bishop. Cairns, Australia.”

Her eyes lit up and she smiled, broadly.

“Australia?! Is Cairns anywhere close to snow?”

Tom looked at the young lady and smiled.

“Nah. Snow is farther south. Down in the hills around by Melbourne and Canberra. Cairns is tropical. Which is okay, because I don’t really like tropical places. What’s your name?”

The young yuki-onna bit her lip as she looked at him.

“My name would translate to Yukiri in this language. It’s hard to pronounce my actual name in your language.”

“Well, Yukiri, I am very glad to meet you. It’s not everyday you see someone who is beautiful surrounded by beautiful nature.”

She sighed, and a wan smile towards the compliment.

“If you know more about me, you may not think I’m so beautiful. Many times, people even think I’m a real monster.”

Tom looked at her, squinted for a few seconds, and gave a little chuckle.

“Everyone has a little bit of monster inside. The most pious of people have that, or there wouldn’t be something called “the human condition”,” he said, while looking out at the placid lake, “There are men and women out there who appear to be normal, but who are murderers and thieves deep down. They show kindness to the world and hatred reigns in their hearts. If you think you are a monster, then obviously you haven’t seen how some humans can be.”

Yukiri looked at him with wide eyes, not realizing that for even a moment that someone would state that some humans are worse than her. She quietly looked out at the lake, serenity perceived, and a tear started to fall down her face.

“Tom, what if someone told you that they were a real monster. Like a monster from legend, or someone who was unbelievably different that it would make you question everything you know?”

Tom looked down at her, and gave her a sideways smile. He crouched down and his smile broadened.

“Everyday, I question what I know. It’s not because I think God’s wrong, or that I’m wrong, but it helps me to realize that there are things I can’t explain out there. If you told me you were a real legendary monster, it’s likely I wouldn’t believe it. But, after a while, when I think about it and pray over the idea, I might change my mind.”

He sat down, dangling his legs over the edge of the cliff, and he reached over to touch her shoulder. Yukiri started to pull away, but then relaxed as the warm hand lightly gripped her shoulder.

“God has shown me many things in my life. He’s shown me the greatest highs and the greatest lows. He has shown me beauty unimaginable in nature, and he has shown me true ugliness. If you’re asking me whether real life monsters exist, then I could say yes. But again, the question we should be asking is, ‘What is the true definition of a monster?'”

Yukiri eyes started to tear up heavily as Tom continued to speak to her.

“Yukiri, beauty and monstrosity are in the eye of the beholder. I know of women back in Oz that are beautiful as can be in their looks, but their personality is absolutely horrific to the point of revolting. I also know of women who are not 10s in their looks, but have some of the warmest and most beautiful hearts imaginable. When you find a balance, that’s where perfection comes in.”

She launched herself at Tom and buried her head in his shoulder, cold tears soaking into the microfiber jacket that he wore. He looked down at her, and he didn’t know what to do.

Do I hug her? Do I ask her what’s wrong? What’s…does she really think she’s a monster?

After a minute of sobbing, the icy tears soaking through Tom’s jacket, she pulled away slowly and sniffled.

“You made me feel…like a human, Tom.”

Tom put up his hands and laughed nervously.

“Hey hey…I’m no saint here. I’m guilty of being a monster myself at times.”

Yukiri smiled at him as he attempted to deflect the compliment with self-deprecation. She put a finger on his lips and smiled.

“What I mean is this, that your words make me think that there is hope for someone like me.”

“What do you mean?”

She looked him in the eye, and took a deep breath.

“Well, what I’m going to say may be hard to believe. You’re talking to a real live legendary monster.”

Tom cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrows, as if he was saying, “Go on…”

She stood and revealed her true face, which was a little bit wider, with what looked to be sharp saw-like teeth. She raised her hands, which were now a deep ice blue, the fingers looking like sharp, razor claws.

“My family are snow fairies. We are Yuki-Onna. In legend, we are accused of leading men to their death.”

Tom’s eyes widened, but as Yukiri looked into his eyes, she didn’t see fear. She saw what she only could describe as amazement.

“You….aren’t scared?”

Tom blinked, and reached for her icy claws. She started to recoil from the touch, as if to cry out “Don’t touch me!”, but he was quick enough to put his hand into her claw.

“Your hands are ice cold. It’s like dipping my hand in a blast freezer. But…I can still feel a bit of your skin. It’s like grooved ice.”

Yukiri smiled, showing the razor teeth in her mouth. She wasn’t showing malice at all, and she felt like Tom was receiving that message in his mind.

“Yukiri, I want to know more. You’re a new being that I never knew existed, but a testament to the greatness of the God I serve.”

She morphed back to her human form and smiled, knowing that this was something she hoped for.

“I’d like to know more about you, Tom. And the God you talk so highly about…”

 

Friday Fictioneers – Get Here

Author’s note: Busy as per usual. Lots of worries. Here’s to hoping the next week will be much better, especially with a day off on Friday for medical tests. Enjoy today’s selection:

Copyright – Sandra Crook

Get Here

by Miles H. Rost

I remember the day that Travis was called to duty. It was going to be a 6 month tour in Jordan.

He looked at me, a lowly young lady from the wrong side of the tracks, and gave me the most heartfelt kiss that a fiancee could give.

We stood by an old stump as we said our goodbyes. I told him, “I don’t care how you get back here, just get back here if you can.”

He was returning from Jordan as the frost on the fields was slowly retreating. I would never see him again, though.

His C-130 got caught in a downdraft, and crashed at the base. No survivors.

He did get back here, I just can’t hold him anymore.

- From the diary of Charlene MacGinnis

(Story behind the song: During the first Gulf War, the song “Get Here” by Oleta Adams, a remake of a similar song by Brenda Russell, was often played as a call to servicemen from their wives and kids.)

“Music And Fiction” State Of The Blog 2015

Hey folks. It’s Miles here! I have decided to give an update to everyone who reads my blog and is a constant watcher of all things “musically fictitious”.

I don’t plan to get long winded about things, but some updates need to be done so that people have the ability to see what all is happening.

Most of you have seen this blog increase from a small little production to something a slight bit larger. The folks from Friday Fictioneers come by whenever there’s a fictioneers post up and running, and others stop by as supporters of the blog. This is incredible, and is the first step to great things.

However, this blog can be and will become more. As most of you know, I have recently turned my Twitter account back on, and you can find me posting there sometimes. Also, I have a Facebook “page” of my own, which anyone can come to and like without worry.

The goal of these things, among others, is to get my blog wired up enough so that I can take it full bore after my time in Korea is finished.

As far as regular updates on the blog, with new material, most of it will be put forth as normal. The biggest problem I have at this time is that my job gets in the way of my writing. One big reason why people did not see an update from me since the last Fictioneers post in February, it was due to the fact that the beginning of the school year happened here in Korea. With the changes in my class schedules and having to plan and re-plan for all the different things that needed to get done, I didn’t get much time to do my writing as my mind was busy with preparing things. Now that I have a lay of the land with my classes for what I assume will be the next 3 months, I should not have to worry.

Here’s what the future is going to hold:

1) Increased posting to at least twice a week by August, including fictioneers. Maybe another group will be joined, depending.

2) More communication through Facebook and Twitter, with more time spent in network with authors, writers, and other folks around the world.

3) Re-issuance of archived/older stories on my Facebook Author’s page. Potentially also done over Twitter as well.

4) Hopefully a more consistent schedule will bring in more consistent readers. And more music.

As it stands, I have very high hopes coming down the pike for this blog and other projects. The biggest issue I am going to be facing in the next few months is time, specifically bouncing between my current job and applying for visas and other stuff. Once I finish my job here in late may, and get set up in Australia in July, I should have a lot more time to spend on really making this great WordPress blog shine.

There will be more Music and Fiction to go around in the next 12 months. Be ready for some action! G’night for now,  and here’s one of my favorite Smooth Jazz artists to allow you to think and create. Enjoy Peter White!

Friday Fictioneers – California Dreamin’

Author’s Note: My apologies for the lack of communication over the last week. March in Korea is the start of new classes and the week has been incredibly busy with new arrangements, new classes. 11 more weeks of this, and I will be finished with this part of life. Also, if you’re on Facebook, don’t forget to like my author’s page. I would love to be able to communicate and give some of the “behind the scenes” regarding some of my stories. 

Photo Prompt – © Erin Leary

California Dreamin’

by Miles H. Rost

They were called the “Four Arms”. Brothers-in-arms who did everything together.

Even illicit drugs.

Propped up by a fence, they found the secret stash of ‘shrooms buried among harmless normal mushrooms. They sat back and looked at the sky as they took in the fumes and took out from their own minds.

“Whoa! Look at that cloud up there! It looks…like Cookie Monster!”

“It’s got so many COLORS, man.”

“Yeah, it’s just so wild. Blue never smelled so good.

“If this is what it’s like in California, I’m goin’.”

They all smiled as they took their psychedelic trip to California, little knowing just how much their “trip” would cost them…

 

Friday Fictioneers – Runaway Train

Welcome aboard once again. A lot of things have happened this week that have caused me to lower my writing threshold once again. I should be able to write more this next week. In the meantime, if you have not liked my Facebook author’s page, please go here and do so. It’ll give you notifications of when I post and whatnot. 

Here’s this week’s offering for Friday Fictioneers!

copyright – Dawn Q. Landau

Runaway Train

by Miles H. Rost

“Did you hear that, Marlys?”

Bob Caldwell called back to his beautiful wife, who was being followed by their loyal dog, Mange.

“Hear what?”

“It sounded like a train!”

Marlys shook her head, laughing.

“These tracks have been abandoned for nearly 50 years. There are no trains on this track.”

They kept walking, when he heard the same sound clear as day.

“Honey, I am seriously hoping you heard that.”

“Bob, you need your hearing checked.”

Suddenly, both of them felt a gigantic rumble under their feet, with Mange running into the trees and away from the railway.

Bob pulled her out of the way as a big Burlington Northern cab came barrelling by at a high rate of speed.

“You think I’m crazy now, honey?”

Marlys knew that she would never live this down.