Uncategorized

by

Friday Fictioneers – Butterfly In The Well

(Author’s note: It’s a little late, but better than none at all.)

© Alicia Jamtaas

Butterfly In The Well

by Miles H. Rost

The first whiff of fresh air for Fred after being let free from the ghosts of 2020 was in the woods near his home.

For a year, the teenager was trapped, forced to stay inside because of his mother’s fears, her paranoia. She finally relented, as she left to visit her sister in the hospital.

Fred sat in the woods, his bare feet connecting to the ground. The small lean-to above him housed a great number of butterflies.

He put out his arm, and one landed on his finger.

“I’m glad to be home.”

The butterfly just flapped peacefully.

This ain’t Fred. This is actually me, in the Butterfly Gardens of Seoul Forest, from July of 2017. Picture was on my phone, but was taken by Andrew Contreras (a really good friend of mine).
by

Friday Fictioneers – Situation

(Author’s note: None. Enjoy the Fictioneers!)

jellico3

© Jellico’s Stationhouse

by Miles H. Rost

Ron Bellio wheeled up alongside his pals, his small wire bike with big monster wheels in the back overshadowing the others.

“Hey, Ronny! Where’d you get the mutant?”
“Oh, the bike? Yo mamma!”
“What you say?!”

The sound of teasing filled the air, along with laughter and music as they rode down the street.

“Did you hear about Ali?”
“What about her?”
“She hit number one on the dance charts!”
“Auntie Ali?! Fat Ali?!”

Ron looked at his friends, smirking that his friends were talking about his cousin.

“You shouldn’t call her fat. She’s got more muscle than all you now.”

alison-moyet-2
Alison Moyet, of the duo “Yazoo” (aka Yaz)

wpimg

by

Friday Fictioneers – Waiting In My Dreams

(Author’s Note: Dealing with a sinus infection, headache related to, and all this other jazz. Forgive me if things seem a bit off.)

peter-abbey11

©Peter Abbey

Waiting In My Dreams

The pathway was dark, surrounding me with the litter of my mind. Things said, things written. At the end, I saw a solitary man.

“Let me through,” I said.
“You didn’t do things right this time,” the man said
“Want to make a bet?”

I pulled out my tazer and made him ride the lightning. After a good 10 second jolt, I stepped back and waited.

He didn’t move an inch.

“I am not afraid of you,” I said defiantly.
“Probably not. But you’re still not getting through.”
“Why?”
“Not your time yet.”
“Then I’m sitting here until my time comes.”

wpimg

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 – Winelight

© C.E. Ayr

Winelight

by Miles H. Rost

“The old city has changed since we got married.”

Jeanette Brunwick and her husband Gary looked around as they cruised down the middle of the river on their pleasurecraft. They returned to their city after 15 years away.

“Remember that the old cannery used to be right there,” she said, pointing to an area that now sat an arena.

“That was where I stole my first kiss from you. The first night we drank wine, and figured that we’d be sommeliers.”

“The winelight, the moonlight. And now it’s obstructed by baseball games.”

“You can never return home,” Gary said, sighing.

 

by

Friday Fictioneers – The Greatest American…Hunter?!

(Author’s Note: Slowly settling in. New stuff will be coming soon. Here’s today’s Fictioneers, just for you!)

© Erin Leary

The Greatest American…Hunter?!

by Miles H. Rost

It was supposed to be a fun filled weekend of paintball and male bonding for the 50 men from Woodbridge Manufacturing. All expenses paid by the company.

It turned into a fight for survival.

In a swamp, close to the cabin, two clumps off reeds stood among old broken tree stumps. Terry and Gonzalo peered through the reeds, fear covering their face.

“I didn’t sign up for this!”
“Quiero ir a casa con mi esposa.”
“I understand that, mi amigo.”

They both held their paintball guns up, looking around for their predator. A rustling made Terry jump.

“GYAH”

*boom*

“OW! I’ve been SHOT! This does NOT HAPPEN to me!”

Terry turned around to find his boss, the expert paintballer, on the ground. A big red stain covered his chest. His eyes went wide. Gonzalo shook his head.

“Estás en problemas ahora, jefe.”