Friday Fictioneers – Train of Thought (Redux)

Author’s Note: It’s a redux of the post from April 10, 2015. Why? Because I can, and I’m having to work on stuff outside of posts today. Enjoy!

copyright Jennifer Pendergast

Train of Thought

by Miles H. Rost

Obedience.

Lucas Milford hated hearing that word, in the modern context. His commute and his job, though, were the biggest forms of forced obedience for him.

He looked around the subway car, seeing all the gray and black suits and dresses. He wondered for just a moment whether he would be able to survive it all.

“Pulling into 92nd Street. Next stop: 112th Street – Broadway Station” the speaker droned out.

Lucas sighed as the train pulled one stop closer to his home. He started to close his eyes.

A flash of yellow streaked by him.

His eyes shot open, and he looked around. He spied the lemon yellow dress of a beautiful woman, whose green eyes bore into his, and red hair screamed out “different!” to him.

“Such…color…” he said, as the woman started moving closer to him.

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Friday Fictioneers – Salesman

(Author’s note: It’s rare that I do the same artist twice, but the pictures just throw everything together. Which reminds me, if you haven’t done so already, go on back to my previous story and take a gander. Here’s the second story with music provided by the great Stan Ridgway.)

the-gate

© Jean L. Hays

Salesman

by Miles H. Rost

“…and for only $15 a month, you’ll get the package delivered to you with no questions asked. You just need to sign on the line, and it’s all yours.”

“One question, Burt.”

“It’s Brett.”

The customer rolled her eyes. “Brett. One question. Where are we?”

“I don’t understand.”

“What city are we in?”

“Scottsdale, Arizona.”

“What’s the temperature right now.”

Pulling out a “handy dandy thermoguide”, he took a second.

“It’s a balmy 102 degrees.”

“Now tell me, why would I want to buy a space heater when it’s going to be 105 degrees outside?!”

“Throw in an ice maker for free?”

“Deal.”

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Friday Fictioneers – (The) Mission Bell

(Author’s Note: I have a feeling I know who A. Noni Mouse is, because I’ve seen that kitchen before. If I’m wrong, then someone has the exact same layout for a kitchen than others I know… )

anonymous-kitchen-photo

©A. Noni Mouse

The Mission Bell

by Miles H. Rost

“You finished the dishes, Harlan?”

“Yeah.”

Harlan didn’t say too much. He knew that when the bell rang, he’d have to be off to work. He didn’t want to leave many words behind.

“I baked a cherry pie. Want a piece?”

“Thanks, Caiera, but no.”

Caiera knew that Harlan didn’t want to say much. She tried to make him as comfortable as he could, before that bell sounded.

With long silence between them, it was cut by the church bell’s chime.

Harlan picked up his rifle bag, and went to the door where Caiera snuck a kiss.

A sniper’s life.

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Friday Fictioneers – The One Thing

(Author’s Note: Nothing. Just good writing and good things. Here ya go!)

eggcelent-from-todd-foltz

© Todd Foltz

The One Thing

by

Miles H. Rost

Becky “Spins” Hoffman was going for maximum effect.

The captain of the women’s baseball team at the local uni, her arm was well known as a lethal weapon.

What people didn’t know is that when challenged, her pranks were the other weapon she would use.

Using a little chemistry knowhow, she prepared the eggs sitting in the carton to the right specifications for this night. As her teammate sped, Becky fired egg after egg. Red, white, and blue splatters showed themselves.

They contrasted the red of the fluttering Soviet flag, and the face of the angry professor who owned it.

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Friday Fictioneers – Blue Blue Sky

(Author’s note: Mental health is very important. I’ve had to take a few weeks off, again, because of too much information overload. As I grow older, it seems my capacity for information has grown to be lesser. I am doing fine today, but who knows how I will be next week. Let’s enjoy today, and this fictioneers piece. Please enjoy the music, and the story that goes with it!)

ronda-pov

© Ronda Del Boccio

Blue Blue Sky

by Miles H. Rost

2000 feet above the Yamhill Valley, Patricia breathed in the air.

“If I could stay up here forever, I would.”
“Not a terrestrial person?” Her husband responded, turning the valve to take them a slight bit higher.
“There’s just so much down there. So much going on, so much trouble.”

She didn’t seem wrong, in her husband’s eyes. The more peaceful a place, the better.

“We’re going to have to go down eventually.”
“I know. I just want to stay up here as long as I can.”

They started a very slow descent, mirroring the setting sun out in the distance.

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Friday Fictioneers – Groove

(Author’s Note: When work gets busier, I get less time to write. Things are starting to slow down, so that helps out. Here’s this week’s Friday Fictioneers!)

band

© C.E. Ayr

Groove

by Miles H. Rost

Vladimir and his band had everything ready within a minute of taking the stage. No need to tune, as it was already done.

This was Festival Saturday. This was their time to shine, as a new band with something his region never thought they’d ever hear.

With a nod, Bruska smashed the cymbals and broke into his steady 4 beat. Mariska joined at the same time, gliding over the Yamaha DX-7 with funky flair. Duma’s Nile Rodgers style guitar lick meshed with Vlad’s bass plucks, creating a groove pocket that was unmistakable.

The influence of American jazz and fusion had arrived.

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Friday Fictioneers – I Miss You

(Author’s note: Not much to say. “Quarantine” continues. Enjoy today’s missive!)

restaurant

©Dale Rogerson

I Miss You

by Miles H. Rost

8:45.

Kristina scanned the half-filled restaurant, bringing her eye to the empty table with the bright pink carnation.

“Hey, Jamie.”

The blonde at the end of the diner counter peeked her head up from under, a clattering of dishes announcing her.

“Have you seen Bart? He’s usually here at 7.”
“You mean table 9. Meatloaf, taters, and corn. Coffee with cream. Key Lime pie,”
“Yeah, that’s him.”

Jamie turner her head, staring out the front door.

“He died this morning. Rolled over to go to sleep, and … there.”

Kristina hung her head. Tears started to fall, as the hole in her heart gaped.

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Friday Fictioneers – Postcards from Paris

(Author’s note: The subject of today’s writing seemed a bit obvious, so I figured I’d go with an obvious choice for music and theme. Enjoy!)

after

© C.E. Ayr

Postcards from Paris

by Miles H. Rost

Percy, the great lawyer, expert toastmaster, had no words.

He peered across the city from his temporary office. He had very little time to see the “City of Love”, with a merger that was looming over him. Once it completed, he sat back and took a breath.

He opened his briefcase and pulled out another folder. Looking through the paperwork, he sighed. He glanced at the Eiffel Tower, then at the Arc du Triomphe, and finally pushed the paperwork into the auto shredder.

He pulled out his phone and hit 1.

“Honey, Merger’s done. Set up the counseling appointment. I’m there. ”

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Friday Fictioneers – Down By The Sea

(Author’s note: Not much to report. Here’s today’s great work!)

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© Roger Bultot

Down By The Sea

by Miles H. Rost

“Oi! We’re goin’ for brekkie. Wanna go?”

Laying out in the ever increasing light of the morning sun, Paul was at his glory. He gave them a shake of the head, as he continued to tan.

“That’s on you! It’s gonna be a ripper.”
“It’s going to be over 40 today. I want to get my sun before staying inside and roasting.”

The boys all just left, as Paul took in the sea air that came up from Port Phillip Bay. He loved the morning, when it was sunny but still cool.

This was rest time. He wasn’t giving it up.

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Friday Fictioneers – 1000 Miles From Nowhere

(Author’s Note: To say the world has changed is a vast understatement. The new normals are staying inside, fear, and so much more. Working from home is a newer normal. There’s a lot going on. Hence why I haven’t posted in a month. But, I have the time and the patience, so here’s this week’s offering. Keep your eyes peeled in the upcoming weeks for more content. I have a feeling that these stay-at-home rules will become the seeds that bear out creativity.)

19957032_524908781182595_6318788215889360404_o

© Jeff Arnold

1000 Miles From Nowhere

by Miles H. Rost

Mindy and Matthew awoke to silence.

Blessed. Calm. Silence.

For the last 3 days, their small yacht was tossed and turned on some of the fiercest waves they had ever seen. Waves double the magnitude of the ones they saw on the Cook Strait during the Australian Regatta.

They both slowly slithered from under their covers, and made their way toward the deck.

Cresting the stairs, they saw the black sky of the storm to their east, a rainbow cutting across. A long expanse of other boats filled the near shore.

The storm led them to shore, the rainbow indicating so.

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