Friday Fictioneers – You Make My Dreams Come True

(Author’s note: I skipped posting the last couple of weeks due to my travels down to Houston. I had an absolute blast with people at a writer’s gathering, and at the anime convention across the street. I got a lot of inspiration, just getting back into the swing of things is going to be the important part. Which is why I am posting this story today.

Oh, and to Haileigh, if you’re reading this: Thanks!)

© Roger Bultot

You Make My Dreams Come True

by Miles H. Rost

Geno’s Cheesesteak, a warm afternoon, and the radio.

Harvey couldn’t have had a better day. A paid half a day off due to a delayed component, and his paycheck already cashed and deposited, was the impetus for sitting and having some good food.

The sounds of Hall and Oates wafted through the air, their latest hit adding extra sonic food to his buffet of the day. He bopped his head along to the sound of the Yamaha CP30, slowly enjoying his sandwich.

Finishing his cheesesteak, he stood from the cement seat to leave.

Full belly, full soul, full day.

Yes, Virginia… they were from Philly, too!
Join us! You know you wanna!

Friday Fictioneers – Wine Night

(Author’s note: Make sure you play the music while reading the story, as it is especially important for the story. Enjoy!)

© Fleur Lind

Wine Night

by Miles H. Rost



Waiters always look, and Andrew Cavasa was no different.

As a supervising waiter, he had to be out on the floor to watch employees and patrons alike, and judge performance in his notetaking.

Snatching up the wine glass on table 12, he recalled the quartet of teachers who put down 2 bottles of 2012 Chateauneuf du-Pape. He chuckled at the redhead teacher that seductively danced to the smooth jazz that provided the atmosphere. He never knew teachers like that in school.

It was these small deviations of the day that made his job worth the while.

He liked to watch.

Friday Fictioneers – Bloom

(Author’s note: After a month of preparing, moving, and finally getting ensconced in my location, I’ve now moved out of the big city and I’m now out in a small town. It already feels good, even if it’s unusual for how I’ve been living. Anyhow, here’s some new Fictioneers with a song that I first heard in a coffee shop in Seoul back in 2016.)

© Dale Rogerson

Bloom

by Miles H. Rost

Pierre thumped forward as the brakes took hold.

He did not see the stop sign until just about late. Had he ran the sign, he would have run into Renault that turned from the side street.

It had been the case all week where he would see the bloom and become transfixed. He nearly wiped out an Uber driver, two semis, and a Polizei cruiser with his inattentiveness.

He pulled over and got out, sitting on the hood of the car and gazing lost at the blooms. He sighed, alternating between the blooms and a picture of his deceased child.

Friday Fictioneers – Angel Flight (Like An Angel)

(Author’s note: Things are getting busier as my time to move happens, but I have time to write, so write I will. Taking a cue from David Stewart, my good buddy over at the Green Walled Tower, here’s today’s fictioneers!)

Angel Flight (Like An Angel)

by Miles H. Rost

Opal Creek Pool was breathtaking.

A natural deep pool carved from bedrock at the bottom of a 15-foot waterfall. It was deep enough to dive and not hit bottom.

But for the group of teens from South Salem High School, they weren’t paying attention to the surroundings. They were focused on Angela Beach, the supposed school recluse, standing on the edge of the waterfall in a stunning bikini.

She dove in, her hands pointing just like a professional, and she quickly disappeared into the water. All the teens, especially the men, would swear she was like an angel taking flight.

Join the fun here! Click the frog!

Friday Fictioneers – Blueberry Hill

(Author’s note: I’m incredibly sorry for the lack of posting through May. A lot has happened, but it is looking like July is going to be a great month for production, as I am moving from my current location to a place farther out from urban civilization. So, to celebrate my impending move, here’s today’s fictioneers!)

© Brenda Cox

Blueberry Hill

by Miles H. Rost

They all said Harlan Fisher was crazy.

“Why would go so far out to sell your blueberries?”

All Harlan would do is smile, as he took his tent to the side of the road at the top of the hill.

Months later, a marathon was scheduled to run through the town, right by Harlan’s hillside stand.

Harlan waited at the top, pitchers of purplish juice ready and waiting to pour.

Runner after runner passed, taking swig after swig of the refreshing juice.

After the race was done, Harlan just sat and looked out at the valley.

Now they knew why.

Click the frog to find more stories like this!

Friday Fictioneers – When Summer Ends

(Author’s note: Life is treating me a bit better. Spring has sprung, and so has the mood to write. Here we go, starting with Today’s Fictioneers!)

©Ted Strutz

When Summer Ends

by Miles H. Rost

Looking down the hill, Itaewon Street was packed for a Sunday afternoon.

Clubbers, university students, foreign workers and teachers, all were gathering in this international section of Seoul. A cross-section of Korean society could be found here most weekends.

Nigerian farmworkers and South African university teachers mingle with Koreans, of both South and North varieties, at barbecue shacks. Americans and Canadians milled about, looking for respite from the arduous week of teaching.

This was the place to be on the weekend, to not feel so alone in a foreign culture. A place to belong.

It still is the foreigners place.

Picture courtesy of expedia.ca

Friday Fictioneers – Slender Frame

(Author’s note: Everytime I say I’m going to write more and get things done, life sets me up with other curve balls. Lately, it’s been my health. Not anything particular, just dealing with tiredness due to the type of work I do. It makes a person lazy. But, today, I am feeling particularly well to write. So here we go!)

© David Stewart

Slender Frame

by Miles H. Rost

“Babes, wake up.”

Selena sat up slowly, bleary-eyed at the soft voice of her mate.

“You haven’t been eating much lately. I figured I’d do something nice for us today, Crepes, toast, eggs, bacon for me, and vegetables for you.”

She slowly scooted back, propping herself up against the headboard. She noticed dandelions in water next to the food.

“I haven’t been eating because I couldn’t keep anything down.”
“Is this how it’s going to be?”

He looked out the nearby window, sighing.

“Only for a short time. I mean, morning sickness doesn’t last that long.”
“I really hope so.”

Friday Fictioneers – Who Says

(Author’s note: I plan on getting to comments this weekend. Now that the case I’ve been working on has completed (at least, this part of it), I’ll be able to focus on getting things done correctly and won’t be as tired. Otherwise, enjoy today’s fictioneers!)

© Lisa Fox

Who Says?

by Miles H. Rost

“We’re going to practice in… this?!

Marcus sighed, knowing that Trini was going to say what she said.

“Wait until we get inside. I think you’ll be surprised.”
“Are the others here?”
“They’re setting up inside.”

They opened the creaky door, and slid into a small corridor. The walls and doors nearby were padded with soundproofing material and carpeting.

“How did you…”
“Just wait, Trini. The best is yet to come.”

Opening the door, they entered the Thom Bell style control room, with the studio opposite the glass.

“Who says we’re not resourceful?” Marcus replied.
“Damn…” Trini muttered in awe.

Wanna read more stories? Click the painted frog!

Friday Fictioneers – Gloria

(Author’s note: I was off for a month. I’ll be honest, work got hectic and things just got really buggery. I am happy to be back, though, as today the weariness has been removed (with a change of case.) Here’s today’s fictioneers!)

© Anne Riga

Gloria

by Miles H. Rost

A vinyl record careened by Luigi Binalli’s nose.

Hearing a commotion, Binalli had entered the radio studio to see the great Giuseppi “Gus” Lombardo frisbee The Eagles Greatest Hits album against the wall.

“Stupid Americans!” Gus spat, while shattering a copy of Chic’s “Good Times”.

“Gus! Why are you destroying our records?!”
“They stole our songs! They took Tozzi’s song and ruined it!”
“They’re making Italy’s music world known!”
“They’re destroying it! Can they not leave our music alone?!”
“Not if Tozzi’s getting royalties.”

Gus’s eyes grew wide, as he threw a Donna Summer record at him.

“You’re fired, Gus.”

Friday Fictioneers – I Can’t Look Down

(Author’s note: Nothing! Just enjoy the show!)

If you want to join the list, click here!
© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

I Can’t Look Down

by Miles H. Rost

Fear. Palpable. Present. Loud.

Darren McCarthy’s fearful screams could be heard across the restaurant, as his mother whisked him to the darkened coat check room. The check girl immediately saw what was happening and got him into the room quickly.

“Ma’am! Is everything okay?”
“He’s going to be fine. He’s just afraid.”

His mom cradled his head and comforted him.

“What happened, ma’am?”
“He watched a scary movie last night. The artwork in the ceiling made him remember it.”
“Which movie?”
“The Poseidon Adventure.”
“That doesn’t seem so bad.”
“Movies and reality are not so different in his eyes.”

^ The scene involved ^