Friday Fictioneers – My Father In Me

(Author’s note: Sorry for the lateness, folks. But this is what happens when you start working at 6A-2:30P shift. You don’t get to stay up and be #1 on the list. That’s okay, though. Y’all still get me anyways. Enjoy today’s fictioneers, while I get back to finding a new place to live.)

 

russell-working

© Connie Gayer

My Father In Me 

by Miles H. Rost

“Once we get these raspberries up on wires…” I started to say.

“…we get to working on moving the lemon verbena out of the corner. It’s annoying,” Dad replied.

“I just thought that. I really don’t like that shrub. But that leaves room for the quince, right?”

“There’s no quince over there.”

“But the leaves popping up over there are clearly quince.”

“Really? Let’s go look…”

We walked over to the corner of the yard. Kneeling down, he took up the stem and leaves.

“Well, son, that is definitely a quince.”

“I know. I picked up on it from you.”

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Friday Fictioneers – Friend Like You

(Author’s note: I have started a new job. This means I have to adjust schedules. This also means that my writing may be later. But please, make sure that you stop by. I hope to eventually get onto a later shift, but that may be months down the road. Until then, you’ll have to work with me. Enjoy today’s work!)

bowl-and-leaves

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Friend Like You

by Miles H. Rost

“Thanks for helping me move this, Helen.”

Helen gazed away and muttered “you’re welcome.”

Terrence looked from the glass bowl on the table, over at her. He remembered when he first met her, a short Korean lady sitting down front in economics.

“Helen? Are you okay?”

“I’m…troubled.”

He blinked. Then turned.

“What’s troubling you?”

Helen looked up into his eyes, then quickly turned when she made contact.

Terrence walked over to her, and lightly put his hands on her shoulders.

“How long?” he said, musing.

“Years.”

“You’re not the only one.”

She looked up, shocked.

He kissed her forehead.

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Friday Fictioneers – I’m Gonna Tear Your Playhouse Down

(Author’s note: Starting the week of May 28th, I will be posting later. I have a job that requires me to be at work at 6AM PDT, which means that Fictioneers is posted in the middle of my sleep-time. Yes, this means I got a job. It’s a good one. And I hope to be able to do a lot more with it. Here’s your fictioneers.)

dadsshoes

Prompt by Courtney Wright; Photographer – Anonymous

I’m Gonna Tear Your Playhouse Down

by Miles H. Rost

One click.

Travis Lonigan knew that with one click, one hit of the return key, he could cost someone their job. Someone would go to jail, someone well respected but with a lot of secrets. Someone who stole from his friend.

He would likely be found. He knew that people were looking for him, trying everything to prevent this from happening.

Switching from the ‘enter’ key to the delete key, Travis knew that one of two buttons would seal his fate. He could be hunted down, potentially destroyed, utterly humiliated.

He could end up dead.

Closing his eyes….

*click*

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Friday Fictioneers – Country Boy

(Author’s note: Still in the process of finding a job, but I am getting a bunch of looks. Hope to have something soon, even if it’s temporary. Gotta make money to spend money. Here’s tonight’s fictioneers!)

nyc-jill-wisoff

© Jill Wisoff

Country Boy

by Miles H. Rost

“Get me outta here.”

Carl Baker wanted to go home. He wanted to be with his horses, apricot orchard, and all the things he loved.

His wife wanted to see the Big City. Rockefeller Center was the bullseye for the trip.

“Dang, honey. That building’s big.”

“It’s said that the family built it, then they sold it off.”

“Well, they kinda had to. After all, it was my family that cut them off in the depression.”

His wife looked at him strangely.

“Your family knew the Rockefellers?”

“We owned the bank. The Rockefellers were city slickers. Can we go now?”

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Friday Fictioneers – Running Up That Hill

(Author’s note: Life is doing pretty well. Interviews happening, help to others being given, and with the exception of being clipped by a hit and run driver (no personal damage to body, a little to the back of my van), things are doing well. Here’s this week’s fictioneers!)

k-rawson

© K. Rawson

Running Up That Hill

by Miles H. Rost

Mandy stared into Josh’s eyes.

“You don’t understand me.”
“What do you mean?”
“This. We are standing just below our target’s hideout, and we’re arguing.”

Josh’s face wore blank.

“I just want to know, before we go in, that we’re on the same page.”
“Of course we’re on the same page. We’re going to axe this guy, then get out of the country.”
“Are you sure?”

Mandy just sighed.

“If you’re going to be addle-brained, I’ll do it myself and Leave you behind.”
“You wouldn’t do-”

*BOOM*

Shards of building rained upon them.

Mandy dropped the detonator and walked away.

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