Friday Fictioneers

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Hedging Your Bets – Friday Fictioneers

Hey there, everyone. Last week was a killer for me, on many fronts. I couldn’t do half of what I wanted to do. The good news is that I will have time this week to do some major writing, so keep up on it. Here’s today’s fiction:

copyright Melanie Greenwood

Hedging Your Bets

by Miles Rost

“I just put in my notice.”

Mark Jackson had a look on his face that was bliss. His cube-mate, Jesse Blaylock, wasn’t so sure.

“So, you’re going to quit without an exit plan?”

“Absolutely not. I have that plan. I’m going to take the first job that I get, and while I work at that one, I’ll work on my passion.”

Jesse’s eye went up at that.

“And what if you don’t find a job?”

“That’s the beauty of it. They’re always looking for someone. I will do any job, just as long as I don’t have to work at this place.”

“You, sir, have faith. If I don’t get to see you go today, here’s to hoping the maze don’t get ya.”

 

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So Far Away – Friday Fictioneers

Welcome back for another Friday Fictioneers set. If you haven’t already read the latest (and according to some, my best) Mayumi story so far, please go check out “We All Sleep Alone”

*Author’s Note: Some have been having trouble seeing the video. If you are having trouble, go to Youtube, and look up “So Far Away” by Dire Straits. You’ll get the feelin’.

copyright Jan Wayne Fields

So Far Away

by Miles Rost

Everything was ready on the table.

Danny got home from work, and expertly prepared a beautiful crown roast of lamb, with mint sauce, lightly fried potatoes, and thin-sliced green beans. All of her favorites.

He set the table with the good plates, the excellent glasses, and everything. His crowning achievement of making dinner, a big one, was complete.

He looked out the window towards the street, the patio bereft of life. He looked out the window for a long time.

It was after about 30 minutes of looking that he realized he was eating alone for the night.

His beautiful wife, his love, would not be making it home for dinner.

Ever.

 

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Friday Fictioneers – Homeward Bound

Apologies for no posts in the last two weeks. Vacation and depression do affect a person. Here’s the latest Fictioneers offering, albeit a couple days late due to birthday stuffs.

copyright Jean L. Hays

Homeward  Bound

by Miles H. Rost

“So this is where it all started?” Marina asked her grandpa.

“Yep. This is where the famous Route 66 got it’s start,” Grandpa responded, with pride.

“Not that, silly! This is where you started your journey, wasn’t it?” the child said, smiling like she was sharing a secret.

“Ah, child. This was the start of my journey. I lived in that brown building back there, and one day I decided to move west. I packed up a ’55 Bel-Air, picked up your grandma in Des Moines, and we made our way to Oregon.”

“Then I came along and brought you back here!”

“Actually, that was your mom…”

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Friday Fictioneers – Missed Opportunities

Heyo, everyone! After a wild and wooly (meaning stressed out previous) week, and a restorative weekend, here I am with the Christmas Eve version of Friday Fictioneers. Coming up soon will be a longer story from me, but until then, here’s my latest entry:

Copyright -Björn Rudberg

 Missed Opportunities

by Miles H. Rost

The adventuring party waited at the bottom of the stairs, as the scout came bolting down.

“Alright. Up at the top of the steps and about 50 feet in is an Ancient Red Dragon.”

“A RED dragon?” the Wizard said, squeaking out the color.

“We’re level 15, not level 65. That’s what Red Dragons are. No way we’re going in,” the leader of the party told them.

The lot agreed, and bypassed the stairs as they went towards the distant Swamp of Salinity.

Up the stairs, the Red Dragon opened it’s eyes and sighed.

“Why won’t people take a chance on me?” he said to himself, “I’m a lovable guy. I even have cookies! I just want people to talk with…”

A tear fell down his scales as he curled back up.

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Friday Fictioneers – Flesh and Blood

Welcome to this week’s fictioneers. While you’re here, take a read over my last big story, “Solitary Man“. I will be trying to do much more regularly updates soon, but work is raking me over the coals. Stay tuned.

Copyright – Douglas M. MacIlroy

Flesh and Blood
by Miles Rost


I was sitting at the bar that last night. I look on it now, and I know I should never have gone. But I was so mad about work, I needed to go somewhere.

This short brunette sidled up to me while I was deep into my second Guinness.

“Hey, stranger. Why are you here?”

“Bad day at work. I’d like to be alone.”

She was empathic. She even bought me another Guinness.

That was all it took to take me home. What was supposed to be a night of passion, turned into my death.

My flesh and blood gone, stripped by a spider with sweet smelling hair.

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Friday Fictioneers – The Winter Long

Hello, Fictioneer readers! I had to take a break from fictioneering last week due to the holidays, and the fact that I was not in the right state of mind to write at that time. I am back, and likely to have a few new stories out soon. But first…today’s Fictioneers story:

copyright Janet Webb

The Winter Long
by Miles Rost

The winter was the longest one that was on record. Cold temperatures kept people inside, the snow sometimes sealed them in like a tomb.

“Honey, do you think we’ll ever be able to leave?”

“Well, sweetie, look out the window.”

They walked over to their window, and looked at a tree with most of it’s leaves on, brown as they may have been.

“Those leaves have stayed on that tree all winter so far. If they can do it, we can do it.”

Honey looked back at her sweetie, smiling bashfully.

“Hold onto me, and I’ll hold on to you.”

Sweetie looked back at his honey, and enclosed his arms around her.

“This winter long, I will always be with you.”

Cold outside, but very warm inside.

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Retired – Friday Fictioneers

Here’s this week’s offering. Other stories are on the way, just dealing with a lot more stress and recover  from said stress than I wish to divulge…

 

copyright Claire Fuller

Retired

by Miles Rost

After 35 years at the gas works, I never thought that I would still be working.

I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what I wanted to do after I got done with my career. The first year was the hardest. I had no clue, especially after Millie died.

I was driving down the A34 and was stopped to get petrol. I saw the building, the shabbiness of it, and the garage. I inquired with the proprietor whether he was interested in having another worker. He grumbled, but agreed.

My first job with him was to retread older tires, or to cut them up.

So, in short, I guess I can truly say that even though I’m working, I’m…retired.

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Friday Fictioneers – Manic Monday

Currently writing this on the road…in Suwon, South Korea (the capital of Gyeonggi Province). Enjoy what my mind throws up!

Copyright-Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Manic Monday

by Miles Rost

I never thought I knew of a place called hell. That is, until I found myself in a delivery job in Beverly Hills.

“You need to drop the first set of packages in the back alley behind the consignment store next to the Victoria’s Secret on Rodeo Drive, but not the Victoria’s Secret expansion across the alley,” my boss told me.

It was like he was speaking Korean to me. I looked at him sideways.

“What’s the name of the consignment store?” I asked.

“How am I supposed to know? I don’t do deliveries!”

So I went with my gut and looked for the Victoria’s Secret store. There were 5 of them within 2 blocks of Rodeo Drive. So I put them in the back alley, on a building that said “Rags to Riches”, next to the Victoria’s Secret.

I was fired the next day for incompetence. When my boss couldn’t even tell me the right place.

I think I’m going to go to the beach and punch a mime.

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Friday Fictioneers – Far Enough

Here’s this week’s submission!

 

Copyright – Jean L. Hays

Far Enough

by Miles H. Rost

“Charlie, you have gone too far.”

Doris MacInally looked out the window and shook her head at her son, Charles.

“How, Mom?” Charlie inquired.

“I remember when you were putting snowplow machinery on old Bel Air chassis.”

“Yeah?”

“Now, you’re putting a mobile oil derrick in the bed of a Ford F-250?”

“What can I say, Mom? There’s a need for more of them up here in North Dakota, so why not make them mobile?”

“Will it actually be able to stay and hold while oil goes everywhere?”

“That’s what the plastic tarp is for.”

“What plastic tarp…no. NO YOU DID NOT…”

“No one liked that tablecloth anyways.”

Doris began to chase her son across the yard, rolling pin in hand, as he giggled all the way.

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Friday Fictioneers – The Chairman of the Bored

A bit under the weather in this post-halloween time period. Sinuses clogged, lingering cough. This is one reason I don’t like teaching children. Anyhow, here’s the story for this week’s Friday Fictioneers

 

copyright – Melanie Greenwood

Chairman of the Bored

by Miles Rost

“Alright, so we finally got the plan together,” Chelsey said, pointedly.

“First, we’ll file our nails and act like we’re bored,” Natasha replied, pointing at a picture of a nail file.

“Then, when the professor’s back is turned, we’ll yawn loudly and fidget like a sugar-eating ADHD child,” Marie proclaimed, pointing to the open mouth picture.

“And finally, when he’s so frustrated with us that he kicks us out of the lecture, we go off and get drunk at The Corner!”

All three nodded and put their hands in the middle of the table.

“One, Two, Three! WE ARE BORED!”