Friday Fictioneers – The Kingdom

(Author’s note: It’s been a week. But I went through the last 3 months of comments, and was able to respond. Because I actually care about people’s thoughts. And now that some things have come together on this job, I’m looking forward to the future. In celebration, here’s today’s Fictioneers!)

jhc-clock

© J Hardy Carroll

The Kingdom

by Miles H. Rost

The people at school knew nothing about Mindy Royal.

The bookish 18-year old was friendly, but no one really took the time to get to know her. Most regarded her as a plain Jane.

Steve Jacobs did not. He was someone who always gave her a smile, helped her when books fell on her, and even gave her lunch money.

The day after her 18th birthday, she walked into her high school, dressed up like a princess. She met Steve, and immediately proposed to him.

She was Princess Melinda, and she needed someone special to be her Duke of Leeds.

wpimg

 

 

Advertisements

Friday Fictioneers – Shame On The Moon

(Author’s note: Y’know, I feel really bad. I haven’t communicated with y’all in the comments in a month. A lot has happened in this month, mind you, but that doesn’t mean much. So, in order to make sure I actually get back to you all, I’ll be spending part of the weekend responding to all the comments that have come in.

I appreciate how everyone who has commented so far, and I am really grateful for everyone keeping me moving in this writing thing. It’s been a tough couple months for writing, but I think I’m close to being able to bust out and really get things going. Now…here’s today’s Fictioneers!)

gah_window

© Gah Learner

Shame On The Moon

by Miles H. Rost

Minjin’s father slammed open the door.

“What was that sound?!” he growled. His daughter was sitting at her desk, writing in her book.

“I have been doing homework, father. What was the sound?”

He furrowed his brows, and turned.

“Never mind. My daughter is great, and I heard nothing.”

He closed the door behind him.

Minjin counted to 10, then smiled as she opened the window again, and brought out her binoculars. Looking through them, she peered into the open windows of the nearby fitness center.

“Come to mama,” she drawled, ogling the men exercising to the light of the moon.

wpimg

Friday Fictioneers – Yard Sale

(Author’s note: I took last week off, as I’m in the middle of some complex situations and needed time to breathe. Things are still complex, but I’m doing alright. I’ll be better still in mid-September. Otherwise, here’s today’s fictioneers…)

nathan-sowers-dawn-millers-friend

© Nathan Sowers

Yard Sale

by Miles H. Rost

“Nope. That’s the right price on it. It’s gotta go.”

Ron looked at the farmstead, then at the old round mirror his wife used to look into every morning before going to work.

“I’ll take it.”

Taking the cash from someone he never met, Ron saw all the small pieces of his life going for small prices.

The tiffany lamp that used to be her reading light.

The old architect’s table where he drewcartoons.

At 80, he knew he needed to pare down. He just didn’t think it would be this soon after his Clarinda left Earth.

He had no clue.

wpimg

Friday Fictioneers – Heavy Fuel

(Author’s note: I am hoping, very soon, to be able to do longer stories like did a couple years ago. Biggest problem: Exhaustion after work. The job I do is mind-numbing. I come home, and I fall asleep. Doubly so on days when I exercise. So, here’s to hoping things work soon. In the meantime, here’s today’s fictioneers.)

coffee-table-prior

© Yvette Prior

Heavy Fuel

by Miles H. Rost

“Dad, you’re only 51. You’re gonna die if you keep doing that.”

My cousin was berating her dad. He just finished scarfing down a triple monster cheeseburger, 2 hand pies, and a thick chocolate shake, all while lighting up an unfiltered cigarette.

He paused, and looked her straight in the eye.

“Lindsey, what do I do for a living?”
“You work at the mine.”
“And what do I mine for?”
“Vermiculite.”
“What’s another name for vermiculite?”
“Asbestos”
“And what does asbestos do?”
“Gives you lung cancer.”
“Exactly.”

He sat back, and gave her a smile.

“Enjoy every minute of this life, Sherry.”

wpimg

 

 

Friday Fictioneers – Classical Gas

(Author’s note: Been having some trouble getting to this earlier than I should. A lot of it is due to the fact that I have a trainer that I go to after work, so I don’t get home until about 5. So you’ll just have to read me last…if you can find me under all the other good folk out there. At least you have today’s fictioneers…)

 

ronda-del-boccio

© Ronda Del Boccio

Classical Gas

by Miles H. Rost

Rotten cheese, mixed with overcooked fish, and spoiled raw meat.

That was the description of the smell coming from the Racine residence, “Frankenstein’s house” to the rest of the neighborhood.

“Frankenstein” took great care of the plants in the boxes around the windows. A hybrid of wheat and onion, he called it.

The plants started to smell terrible, getting worse as the plant grew or as the humidity got worse.

A great sound, like a balloon letting go of it’s air occurred in the middle of the night.

The next morning, the plants were gone.

The neighborhood never woke up.

wpimg

 

 

Friday Fictioneers – Hold Your Head Up

(No message today, but may have some things in the cooker for the weekend. 20 year class reunion this weekend. Enjoy the fictioneers today!)

sandra-crook-stacks

© Sandra Crook

Hold Your Head Up

by Miles H. Rost

Chuck beamed with pride.

He finally finished. It took months, but he did it with his own hands. He ran inside, and smiled at his dad.

“Dad! Come take a look!”
“What is it, Chuck?”
“Come with me!”

His dad walked out to the greenhouse and looked. Seeing Chuck’s creation, he smiled.

“See Chuck, I knew you could do it.”
“I know, Dad. But it’s real now! And you can put things in it.”

His 17 year old son created something useful. Down Syndrome didn’t stop him. His dad smiled, knowing his son was going to create beautiful, workable things.

wpimg

Friday Fictioneers – What’s Love Got To Do With It?

(No News. Just me. Here’s your fictioneers!)

ted-strutzs-town

© Ted Strutz

What’s Love Got To Do With It?

by Miles H. Rost

Her hand impacted the side of Mitch’s angular face.

It hurt.

Mitch just looked down at his diminutive paramour and smirked.

“So when were you going to tell me about Liliana?”
“I wasn’t, Chelsea. You agreed to an open relationship. That’s what it is.”

Chelsea slapped him again, reverse cheek this time.

“I said we should have open feelings, not have an open relationship!”
“And you didn’t say that. I said an open relationship, and you said ‘fine. Let’s be open’.”
“So you tricked me into love, when you were spreading it.”
“What’s love got to do with it, chiquita?”

wpimg