Month: June 2016

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Friday Fictioneers – Angel In The Morning

(Author’s Note: On With The Show!)

 

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Angel Of The Morning

by Miles H. Rost

Usagi looked outside, her long red hair a contrast to the thick snow on the window.

She wanted it. She knew what she wanted, and she finally took it. That was all, and no one could tell her otherwise.

She sat at the foot of her bed, smiling down and giving a little giggle at remembering everything that happened the night before. Magic happened last night, and she never wanted to see it go away.

She looked at her basset hound, with a small persian cat curled up within, sleeping away. They were the best of friends, and she was happy.

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Friday Fictioneers – Brave New World

(Author’s note: Helping friends out with their issues here in Korea. Seems to me like I was sent back to Korea for precisely this moment. Future writings are coming, that are non-fictioneers. Here we go with today’s, though!)

© Rich Vosa

Brave New World

by Miles H. Rost

“It’s been 7 years since I’ve been home. I’m worried about what I’m going to find.”

He looked at his friend, Cord, as he was ready to board his plane at Gate A19.

“You’ve been through hell in Vietnam. You’ve taken some time and got recharged. It’s time for you to go home and see people.”

He looked at Cord sadly.

“But what if they’re like all the others who’ve been spitting on our comrades, pouring urine over them, and all that.”

“I think you’ll find that most of those stories are in the bigger cities. You’re going to Muncie, Indiana. Not happening.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, as he handed his ticket to the gate clerk.

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Friday Fictioneers – Piano In The Dark

(Author’s Note: I promise stuff is coming. I’m getting distracted by all sorts of stuff at work. The job gets in the way sometimes…But, here’s another Fictioneers post to whet your appetite!)

 

© John Nixon

Piano In The Dark

by Miles H. Rost

Shirley plopped her bag on the table.

Coming home from a hard day of learning at school, she was going to be happy when she finally could watch “Sailor Moon”. It had been a while since she had a day to herself.

The sky grew dark all day, and it was nearly pitch black outside. She turned on the TV and not even a minute in, she heard the familiar buzz of klaxons and red screens.

She buzzed into the basement and took shelter and waited.

And waited.

The lights went out.

A steady roar sounded.

Plink. Plink.

Cacophony.

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Friday Fictioneers – Just Breathe

(Author’s note: A great response to last week’s story. Glad to hear things. Slowly getting back to normal after a major week of strangeness. Hope to have actual other fiction up and running. Now, last time I did this photo, it ended up with a father changing a diaper while wearing protective gear. What will come up this time?)

© Douglas M. MacIlroy

Just Breathe

by Miles H. Rost

“You don’t have to worry about anything. Just let yourself go and breathe,” Helen Young said, as her husband approached hyperventilation.
“There’s a reason I don’t like scubadiving.”
“I know, honey. But just breathe, and it’ll be like normal.”

The Youngs plunged into the water, Helen leading the way to a group of rocks about 125 feet down. She pointed down at them, and her husband went down to look at them.

From her side, she pulled out a knife and proceeded to cut his oxygen tube. Water rushed into his lungs, he gagged as he tried to surface for air.

“Freedom…” she thought.

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Friday Fictioneers – One Day To Fly

(Author’s Note: I’d like to give a shout out to Jason E. Gillikin, a good friend of mine who I have had the pleasure of contacting and being in contact with for many years. We both grew in our writing, and he is the Editor in Chief of Caffeinated Press, an anthology publisher based out of Grand Rapids, Michigan. He has helped me, in many ways, to get back to writing the way it should be. If you get a chance, you should visit his website: http://www.jegillikin.org/ )

© Piya Singh

One Day To Fly

by Miles H. Rost

Leo shot up in his bed.

Never one to dally, he reached over to the table and grabbed a charcoal pencil and his paper, and started to sketch.

A smooth nose, sleek lines jutting back from the rounded nose. A bump on the top towards the front, and a long tubular body. Each part of the drawing called upon the memory of his dream, the horror and awe of what he imagined.

Two ellipses, flattened, bisected the main body, rounding on either side, but thin enough to look like the blade of a knife.

The vision of da Vinci was masterful.