Friday Fictioneers – The Road Not Taken

(Author’s note: With the final part of my Korean experience finally complete, I now focus on the next phase of life. This means that Music and Fiction will likely get an upgrade/update in some way. Once I get settled back in a routine, this should happen. Until then, it’s Fictioneers and other stories I plan to write. Hope you enjoy today’s offering!)

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© Bjorn Rudberg

The Road Not Taken

by Miles H. Rost

“Daddy, do you ever wish you did something different?”

Paul looked down at his daughter, 9 years old and ever inquisitive.

“There are one or two things, sweetie. But, then you wouldn’t be here. That’s not a wish I would make.”

She put her arms around his waist, and hugged tightly.

“Do you regret losing your arm?”

He looked down at his sweetie, and sadly smiled.

“My arm saved 4 men in Iraq, sweetie. I would not trade that, no.”

Paul swept his arm under her and picked her up.

“Honey, my arm brought me home. No regrets.”

“I love you, Daddy!”

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Friday Fictioneers – Inherit The Stars

(No author’s note this time, enjoy the show!)

camera-ted-strutz

© Ted Strutz

Inherit The Stars

 

by Miles H. Rost

“Brent, whatever are you doing out here?”

Brent looked up from his telescopic camera and smiled.

“They say that Jupiter is going to be closest tonight. I want to get a picture of her.”

His grandpa shuffled over to the camera, and peered through the viewfinder.

“Your uncle Stephen would be proud of you, you know.”
“Because of my interest in the planets?”
“Because you’re taking the time to explore more than just what’s around you.”

Brent looked up solemnly.

“There has to be more. I mean, how could all of this be created if there wasn’t a bigger purpose?”

Stephen Hawking (“Uncle Steve”) – Courtesy of The Telegraph 

Friday Fictioneers – Jigue

crook-building

© Sandra Crook

Jigue

by Miles H. Rost

Tension as thick as whipped cream.

At the Ballarat Estate, the annual charity Chess and Pie Ball were underway, and the pie competition was fierce.

15 contestants, and the time was at hand for the final results.

“The winner of the Chess and Pie competition for this year is…”

The envelope opened. The bright face of the chairwoman turned glum.

“Angus MacDonald and his Scotch Pie…for the 12th year in a row.”

Angus laughed, and started to dance his jigue.

“HALT!”

Angus looked back, and saw Constable Barklay with handcuffs.

“The jigue is up. You were caught stealing that pie.”

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