Friday Fictioneers – Reunion

(Author’s note: Well, I did it. I got the full-time job. This means a little more security, and means a little more stability for my writing schedule. I am hoping to be back up to speed fully. Also, my health has taken a turn for the better, so I am celebrating. Enjoy today’s fictioneers.)

barns-1-dawn-miller

© Dawn Miller

Reunion

by Miles H. Rost

20 years passed since I left high school. I did things many of my classmates didn’t, in that time.

I left Minnesota, I left the United States, I left the Western Hemisphere, and the Northern too.

The funny thing is: I missed some of my classmates.

Tarik, the funny man of my choir days, keeps Minnesota’s air pure.

Dave’s doing great farm work in the Dakotas. Margot is keeping America’s workers safe. Adrienne is helping people achieve their best, and Chad’s keeping the mail moving.

Some of our paths chosen, some chosen for us. But for one weekend, we are together.

38600257_10104008030376906_173543900261122048_o

Oh hai thar! It’s a-me! And the school that I used to go to.

purple-inlinkz-frog

Friday Fictioneers – De Plane! De Plane!

(Author’s note: For lack of a better term, July was hell. Lots of stuff going on, and on top of all of it…I got sick. Hence why I haven’t posted in 3-4 weeks. But I’m back, and here we go!)

ted-strutz-plane

© Ted Strutz

De Plane! De Plane! 

by Miles H. Rost

“I won’t do it!”

“Herv, they love you. Everyone loves you.”

“They think I’m short. A cute doll! The audience…they love Tattoo! They don’t love Herve.”

“What about your fans from the Bond films?”

“Nick Nack! That’s all I’m known as!”

His agent looked at him and shook his head.

“You do realize if you do this event, you’ll be able to help children, right?”

He looked up, and his countenance eased.

“The children want to see Tattoo, Nick Nack, and Herve Villechaize. All together. One package.”

Herve smiled, as he slid off the chair.

“It’s for the children.”

Herve Villechaize, in the earlier days, would visit crime scenes where children were affected, and he would help comfort them. 

 

Friday Fictioneers – Angel In Disguise

(Author’s note: None. It’s Wednesday. Enjoy!)

cloister-roger-b

© Roger Bultot

Angel In Disguise

by Miles H. Rost

Tom looked over the large lawn on the British estate that he stayed at. He was about to turn around when he felt soft, silky hands wrap around his shoulders.

“Tomas, come back to me.”
“But I’m right here.”
“For good.”
“I want to, but…”
“But what?”

She spun him around and pressed herself upon him.

“I need to decide, Sandra. Nashville or you.”
“Why not both? You work for my dad’s business, then work with Nashville remote?”

She made sense. Her Spanish accent added another level to that sense.

“You’re an angel, Sandra.”
“In disguise, non?”

He enveloped her.

RIP Earl Thomas Conley (1941-2019)

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter

 

Friday Fictioneers – Hot Rod Hearts

(Author’s note: So, to honor the purchase of my first new vehicle (as in less than 5 years old), I am celebrating while writing something related to transportation. Here we go, enjoy today’s fictioneers…involving someone famous!)

ce3

© C.E.Ayr

Hot Rod Hearts

by Miles H. Rost

“Holy…Jan, is that you?!”

His voice rang across the Hollywood lot, as Jan turned around.

“Robbie?”

“I didn’t know you were here!”

Jan gave him that mischevious smile she always gave.

“Yeah, you did. You see me every Monday at 8.”

“Still…I figured I wouldn’t actually run into you at all.”

She stood tall and confident, the same rebellious spirit Robbie saw in her years ago.

“You know, I still have the motorcycle.”

“That old thing? Still runs?”

“Nah. Lots of memories with it. The shot that launched your career. Remember?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, “It got me to WKRP.”

 jan2bsmithers2bcolor2b1966-1

index

Friday Fictioneers – It’s Good To Be King

(Author’s note: I have to apologize to all my readers and others who I should be reading. The last couple weeks dealing with the run-up to winter camp left me with little energy to respond, and that’s all on me. I will be doing better, now that camp has started and I have an idea of what’s going on, to actually visit and remark on other people’s stories.

In the meantime, here’s my fictioneers story, and it’s a bit of a historical thing…)

derelict-building-sandra-crook

© Sandra Crook

It’s Good To Be King

by Miles H. Rost

Steve disliked working at the school. It was not something he wanted to do.

He was waiting for news that seemed to never come. Meanwhile, he had to teach these hormonal girls how to write. It was a Sisyphean task.

When he was called to the office, he thought he was in trouble.

“It’s your wife,” the receptionist said, handing him the phone.

“Tabs, what’s going on?”

“Steve, I just got a telegram.”

“Yeah?”

“They’re going to print. They are asking if $4200 is enough.”

Steve smiled. His work about the kids he taught would be published.

Carrie would be unleashed.

(courtesy of Wikimedia)

(Courtesy of the Boston Globe)

Friday Fictioneers – Puttin’ On The Ritz

(Author’s Note: Well, things are about to get busy with me regarding my eventual move back to the United States. Currently whittling down the cities that I may move to, and hoping that I’ll be able to find something upon my return. Otherwise, here’s today’s fictioneers…with a little extra spice.)

chicagomg

© Marie Gail Stratford

Puttin’ On The Ritz

by Miles H. Rost

“Excuse me, can you tell me how to get to the Ritz?”

“Down two blocks, left one block, on your left.”

The brown-skinned man in the top hat gave him a bow and smiled in thanks.

“Say…haven’t I seen you somewhere before?”

He smiled at the question, thinking.

“Oh, maybe.”

“What’s your name?”

“I am Taco,” he replied, a slight bit of Dutch coming out of his throat.

“I asked your name, not what you ate.”

He laughed, and gave him a salute.

“Look on MTV tonight. You’ll see.”

He turned, smiled, and whistled an Irving Berlin tune.

wpimg

Friday Fictioneers – Children

(Author’s Note: None. Just enjoy today’s fictioneers! And Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms.)

 

auto-aftermath

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Children

by Miles H. Rost

The park was full of them. Each and every one of them a precious life.

It was always this way after the first warm-up of the season. Kids in their sweatshirts and jeans were playing. It was great for us adults to see.

I just turned onto 45th when the sun blazed between the two large buildings ahead. I squinted and got my visor down as quickly as possible.

That’s when I heard the thump.

Then the screams.

I stopped my car immediately, got out, and looked behind me.

She wore orange that day. I didn’t see her.

She was 12.

R.I.P. Roberto Concina (aka Robert Miles)

wpimg