autobiographical

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Friday Fictioneers – Back On The Streets

© Rowena Curtin

Back On The Streets
by Miles Rost

8 years since he returned to the old haunts.

The smells, or lack thereof, made the area seem surreal. The scent of freshly baked bread from the factory was the prime smell missing.
The scent of booze and lichens no longer permeated the streets or the sidewalks.

The absence of smell made the area seem antiseptic. Half the buildings that enclosed the area were gone, removed to make new, giant buildings at twice the price.

He got back into his car, and drove away from the glass and concrete facades where brick used to rule. Donor money gone to waste.

Go ahead. Click the blue box. You know you want to read others.

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Friday Fictioneers – Island Rain

(Author’s note: Hey, everyone! Getting back into the game. Hoping to start posting every week again, and maybe drop some other story ideas on here. This month is going to be further work on my first book, at least a rough draft. We’ll see how things work. I have a goal of getting it off to an editor by the end of April. We’ll see what happens. Anyhow… here’s today’s fictioneers!)

© Me!

Island Rain

by Miles H. Rost

A laundry cafe.

Not exactly a typical thing to see, but in Korea, they’ll make a cafe or bar out of anything. It seems like Korea catches waves earlier, then moves on quickly. America doesn’t usually have things like this.

While sitting and waiting for my wash to dry, I sipped on a cup of yuzu tea, the sounds of jazz fusion music in my ears. The fact I was able to find this place during my month off from teaching was helpful, as I could work through the evening on my writing.

I could stay in this place forever.

You know you want to click it.
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Friday Fictioneers – When Summer Ends

(Author’s note: Life is treating me a bit better. Spring has sprung, and so has the mood to write. Here we go, starting with Today’s Fictioneers!)

©Ted Strutz

When Summer Ends

by Miles H. Rost

Looking down the hill, Itaewon Street was packed for a Sunday afternoon.

Clubbers, university students, foreign workers and teachers, all were gathering in this international section of Seoul. A cross-section of Korean society could be found here most weekends.

Nigerian farmworkers and South African university teachers mingle with Koreans, of both South and North varieties, at barbecue shacks. Americans and Canadians milled about, looking for respite from the arduous week of teaching.

This was the place to be on the weekend, to not feel so alone in a foreign culture. A place to belong.

It still is the foreigners place.

Picture courtesy of expedia.ca
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Friday Fictioneers – Treasure Chest

(Author’s note: Things are getting crazy! Here’s some Fictioneers!)

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Treasure Chest

by Miles H. Rost

A summer day, and the sound of kids playing filled the air.

This day, it was an adventure. The youngest kid impersonating Sherlock Holmes, the middle kid pushing the swing while the oldest imagined she was a pilot.

After the “flight” was over, they all ran around the quarter acre of property, looking for the treasure that their mother hid earlier that day.

They peered in a hole in the tree. Nothing.

They searched the camper. Nothing.

Finally, the middle kid spotted the box under a rhubarb plant.

They opened the box, and found… condiments.

“KIDS! DINNERTIME! BURGERS!”

“YAY! BURGERS!”

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Friday Fictioneers – Korea Remembered (Madrigl)

(Author’s note: A lot of feels with the picture for this Fictioneers. A lot of them. Enjoy!)

© Brenda Cox

Korea Remembered (Madrigl)

by Miles H. Rost

Nambu Market in Jeonju was one of a few placed I loved to go.

The shops, the smells of the food, the atmosphere; All of it was intoxicating.

The blood sausage restaurant, serving up sundae, was lined up down the lane. I passed them all by. No twenty minute wait for me.

The kalguksu shop I went to had soft asia-jazz playing, and was a great place for someone like me.

The server put some water on my table, and asked me for my order.

“Mandu Kalguksu wa cola hanpyeong gajuseyo.” *

She smiled as she went to make my order.

*- “Knife-cut noodle soup with dumplings, and 1 glass of cola, please.”