Friday Fictioneers – Ride Across The River

(Author’s note: End of February, I go home to America. Until then, I post! Here is this week’s fictioneers.)

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© Roger Bultot

Ride Across The River 

 

by Miles H. Rost

Klaus tripped over a broken tree branch.

He hated his commander for staying at this place. It wasn’t safe, and wasn’t protected.

It was Christmas, and he was not wanting to be in this foreign land. He wanted to be home. Any home. He even spoke enough English to get by.

He had made it about two miles when he ran into a vast line of men. One commanding man looked down at him from his horse.

Klaus raised his hands.

“I know English. I surrender. They are not on guard.”

The horseman looked back, and smiled.

“Victory or Death!”

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Courtesy of ushistory.com; 1851 picture credit to Emanuel Gottlieb Leutze

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Friday Fictioneers – Glad It Was You

(Author’s note: So, if you’re on Facebook, you probably found out this past week. But for those who are not, I’ve made the decision (with some help from the Lord, and a bunch of preschool children) to go back home to the USA for a time. I am not sure how long it’ll be, but it should be enough. And I’m in a good place to go and do things. I’ll keep everyone abreast, but it is likely I will be landing on American soil around March 1st.

Time for some fictioneers!)

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© Sandra Crook

Glad It Was You

by Miles H. Rost

The tree bled from the hole the fireworks made.

That’s what Marty remembered, as it happened 5 years past. And here he was, again, looking up. He turned as he heard footsteps.

“So after all this time, you’re back here again,” Katrina said. A redhead, she didn’t look any older than before.

“Not much further from where I began, eh?”

She looked up at the tree.

“Remember?”

“We set off fireworks. One of them landed there, on that hole.”

“That hole hadn’t closed up until last week, when you arrived.”

“Guess it needed both of us.”

“I’m glad,” she said, warmly.

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Friday Fictioneers – Bird Is The Word

(Author’s note: Big things to announce soon, not necessarily blog related, but we’ll see how things work. Otherwise, enjoy!)

© Douglas McIlnoy

Bird Is The Word

by Miles H. Rost

“You. You are a birdbrain!”

Ornithological expert Phil Kilanowski looked up from his desk.

“Come again?”

“You are a birdbrain. That’s all you have on your mind!” his wife, Melanie, cried out. She had a crow on each shoulder.

“Oh! You made friends with Phobos and Deimos! Excellent! This is great for my study on the social habits of crows!”

Melanie blinked.

“And the osprey in the living room?”

“Oh, he’ll be back at the university next week.”

“No, he’ll be back at the university tonight. Along with all others. Or your dinner will taste like chicken.”

Phil’s face went white.

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Friday Fictioneers – Moon Over Georgia

(Author’s note: I’m sick. This means my brains are warped. Enjoooo~oy!)

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© Ted Strutz

The Moon Over Georgia
by Miles H. Rost

The voice was husky, tough yet soft.

“You have a choice, Melinda.”

The werewolf turned around and stared at his daughter, a blonde-furred beauty.

“Your inheritance will be released to you early, if you marry Martin.”

He gestured to a black-furred werewolf from a tribe in Idaho.

“Or marry Gerald, whom you claim to love; and renounce everything, yet be free of the curse.”

He gestured to a plain-looking, bespectacled man of around 30.

Melinda looked, then latched onto Gerald and jumped off the yacht.

Melinda bobbed up after a moment; her fur and muzzle both gone.

She would marry Gerald, instead.


(Warning: Strong Language.) (This is the inspiration, in a way.)

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