Fiction with Video

by

Friday Fictioneers – Moonies!

 

ceayr

©C.E. Ayr

Moonies!

by Miles H. Rost

“Michelle! Come here!”

Yumi Tanaka bounced on her 12-year old feet, waiting for her gaijin homestay to come and join her.

“What is it, Yumi?”
“You remember that show I wanted to show you?”
“No, I think I was studying…”
“Come on, Michelle. Time to go watch!”

Michelle Davis was pulled into the living room of the comfortable suburban Tokyo home. Plopping down on some pillows, the show started.

“What’s the name of this show?”
“Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon!”
“Ugh. Sounds weird…”

<15 years later>

“Welcome to L.A.X.” the speakers droned.

Michelle waited at the gate, smiling. A short blue-haired bob jumped up and down.

“Ami!”
Yumi Tanaka’s eyes turned around and opened wide!
“Rei!”

“I missed you!” they said as they hugged.

wpimg

by

Friday Fictioneers – Dear Jacqui

from-amy-reese

Photo Prompt © Amy Reese

Dear Jacqui

by Miles H. Rost

A letter, received in the post on a Sunday

Dear Jacqui,

I am at peace. You don’t have to worry about me anymore, because I am doing what needs to be done.

I did what I had to do, to help you get the peace you never had while we were together. All of this, just to say “I love you” in a way I couldn’t before.

Don’t think bad of me for what I’m doing. I don’t care about myself. Never did. I only want you to be happy.

It’ll all be over in a minute.

My love and goodbye to you.

wpimg

by

Friday Fictioneers – Counting Stars

from-roger

Photo Prompt © Roger Bultot

Counting Stars

by Miles H. Rost

Gina sat on the hood of the car, looking up into the sky. She reached her arm out and tried to touch the stars.

“What are you thinking, Gina?” her cousin Brian asked, arm and leg hanging off the side of the car.

“I’m thinking about quitting my job, finding a place with no light, and counting stars forever.”

Brian turned his head and smiled.

“Has life been that bad for you?”

“Nah, I just am tired of civilization.”

Brian looked up at the stars, and smiled.

“Become an astronaut?”

“I’d have to come back to people…”

Brian just nodded.

wpimg

 

by

Friday Fictioneers – Whatever Happens

(Author’s note: I will be doing some updates on this Chuseok weekend. I will also post a big personal non-story update, to give people an idea of what’s to come with Music and Fiction. In the meantime, here’s today’s fiction!)

shaktikiff2

Enter a caption

PHOTO PROMPT © Shaktiki Sharma

Whatever Happens

by Miles H. Rost

 Devon plopped the lump of clay on the wheel.

She cut and removed pieces she didn’t need, like pieces of her life that were unusable. She slowly formed the rounded lump with her hands. Pushing and pulling the clay, smoothing it out with water, she slowly developed it into a shapely, beautiful vase.

She pulled out a brush and some glaze. She pulled out a small tin, and mixed the grey powder into the small jar of glaze. She painted the fired vase, and put it back in for more firing.

The final product stood in the entryway, a tribute to her dearly lost husband, who was now a part of the beautiful vase.

wpimg 

by

Friday Fictioneers – Say It Isn’t Sew

 

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

Say It Isn’t Sew

by Miles H. Rost

“One more bolt! I need one more bolt!”

Janeane Crawford ran through the fabric store, with five minutes until closing.

She quickly grabbed a random bolt of cloth, and ran to the counter. The checker ran all the purchases through except for the final random bolt.

“Are you sure you want this?”

“Yes. YES! I want it!”

“Are you positive?”

“YES! I NEED THAT CLOTH!”

“Okay…”

She rang it through. Suddenly, from the corners of the store, a loud noise rang forth. It was like the sound of 1000 sewing machines revving up.

“What the…”

The checker smiled evilly.

“You got gabardine. And now you must pay for it…”

Janeane cried, as the checker laughed maniacally, showing her the total.

by

Friday Fictioneers – Second Chances

(Author’s Note: Nothing major to report. Just working like I normally do. Enjoy today’s fictioneers, because I think it’s a good one.)

PHOTO PROMPT -© Vijaya Sundaram

Second Chances

by Miles H. Rost

“It’s been nearly 15 years, Rachel.”

“Since?”

“Since I’ve been on a date like this.”

“The last time you were on a rooftop, watching fireworks and drinking mojitos?”

Charles looked at Rachel with a wan smile.

Rachel’s eyes crinkled, looking deep into his face.

They both scooted closer to each other, her head resting on his shoulder.

“The difference this time is that I’m not in the middle of a war zone.”

“Which zone?”

“Kandahar.”

Rachel sighed, her displeasure obvious.

“Does it bother you?”

“Nah. I just miss Kandahar. But, I know I’m safe with my big Marine.”

He smiled, watching the fireworks go off.

by

Friday Fictioneers – Honeycomb

(Author’s Note: Getting busy. Getting my writing on. Boomba. Enjoy this song throwback!)

 

PHOTO PROMPT © Janet Webb

Honeycomb

by Miles H. Rost

“Honey!”

Francine Jameson called out to her husband, waving her arms frantically as he rushed over.

“I found a great specimen! I think this old comb is one from the 1990s.”

Her husband picked it up and examined it.

“I think this is the one from when we first met.”

She smiled at him broadly. “I’m glad we came back here.”

He pulled her close and smiled. “Except this time, you don’t have 500 bees and a nest next to you, pestering you.”

“Well, if you didn’t save me, those bees would have got me.”

“And instead, it was me who got you.”

by

Friday Fictioneers – Reflections (on the Lake)

(Author’s note: Still working on the story. Been dealing with some things that have come up since. A little under the weather with a throat infection. Getting better, though.)

 

PHOTO PROMPT – © Adam Ickes

Reflections (On The Lake)

by Miles H. Rost

Paul Marcus looked over the lily-pad covered lake, deep in thought.

“Where did the time go? Not long ago, I was 24 and full of spirit. Now I’m 35 and broken.”

He looked at the small bobs coming up from the lake, stirring a pad or two.

He thought back to the opportunities that were there, that he missed because he was focused on one dream. A one track mind, and that track derailed a year before.

Sitting back in a chair under the shade of a gazebo, he looked at his watch.

12:15PM

“6 more hours until I need to be home.”

by

Friday Fictioneers – Somebody Put Something In My Drink

(Author’s note: No major announcements. Still working on short story. Taking longer than I hoped. But that’s cool. Enjoy an interesting story here.)

 

PHOTO PROMPT- ©Ted Strutz

Somebody Put Something In My Drink

by Miles H. Rost

Bud Murray was the oblivious barfly.

He was always at the end of Charlie’s Bar, drinking his riches away. And no one paid mind to him. It was the 1960s, no one really cared.

A dull-colored liquid in a shotglass perched itself in front of his lips. He sniffed. Smelled normal. He took it and knocked it back.

Within a minute, his shoulder moved. Then his arm. He started staggering around the bar, out of his mind.

That was the last thing he remembered before he woke up, tied down to a bed.

He looked at a nurse, and yelled the only word on his mind.

“COINTELPRO!”

Look it up!

by

Friday Fictioneers – Baby Baby

(Author’s note: Currently working on longer fiction piece, hopefully for publication. It’s a good one, but I will still be making time for Fictioneers. Here’s today’s piece.)

 

© Janet Webb

Baby Baby

by Miles H. Rost

The ambulances were splashing away from the parking lot of the movie theater.

Nearly a foot of water was in this section of the parking lot. An area with over a hundred guys walking around, dazed.

It was a special movie night, where pregnant moms got in for free with the purchase of a normal ticket and a concession box. What was not expected was the pain when the first mother walked out of the theater, followed by another mother.

Pretty soon, every mother’s water had broken. Over 100 mothers were taken to the hospital that night, after one of the worst rainstorms in ages.

It is still known to this day as the “Night of the Baby Flood”.