Friday Fictioneers – Till The Money Runs Out

(Author’s Note: Just like last week, nothing new. Enjoy!)

© David Stewart

Till The Money Runs Out

by Miles H. Rost

“This is moronic.”

Paul Daniels wouldn’t stop grumbling, and his co-worker Jake Byers had enough.

“Look, Paul. To continue doing what we do, we need money. They are paying us $5,000 each to set up all these eggs in the lake.”

“But it’s stupid. Why does anyone need to have a gender reveal party?”

Jake stood up and scowled.

“Hey, at least they’re not firing off colored explosives in dry grassland like that family did down in Yucaipa last year.”

Paul couldn’t fight that point.

“At least we’ll get to rest after this.”
“Only till the money runs out.”
“Dammit.”

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Friday Fictioneers – Behind The Waterfall

© Anne Higa

Behind The Waterfall

by Miles H. Rost

The hike from the campsite to the water source was long.

The reward was clear, crisp, running water.

Sally looked around and smiled. She spied a little path going behind the waterfall. A curious teenager, she had to investigate it.

Reaching the back of the waterfall, she looked out at the beautiful blue-tinted waters pouring over the lip of the cave. The sight of the western sun shining through the water gave her heart peace.

Taking out a small bag, she untwisted the tie, and poured the contents out.

“Be at rest, Dad. You always said you loved the water.”

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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!)

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.”

Friday Fictioneers – Midnight Pretenders

(Author’s note: The last time I wrote, I had just started the process of moving to a new place. Happy enough, I’m moved in and doing well. Changed up a bunch of things, and I feel good about prospects down the line. Especially the freedom of being able to write while looking at an interesting suburban neighborhood. Anyhow, here’s an unusual take on today’s Friday Fictioneers entry…)


© Jennifer Pendergast

Midnight Pretenders

by Miles H. Rost

“Atsuko, you’ve never made Christmas cookies before?”

Atsuko Inori flushed, her secret exposed.

“Well, we have eggs, flour, sugar. Do we have vanilla?”

“Vanilla? No vanilla,” she said, “Cannot get from big supa.”

Stephano opened her refrigerator, and smiled.

“You have lemons. Lemons make real good Christmas cookies.”

She moved her hips slightly, almost dancing.

Stephano looked up, catching her.

“You wanted to make lemon cookies, didn’t you?”

“I like lemons. My tongue dances, just like me, when I eat.”

Stephano stifled a chuckle, bringing down bowls from their cupboard.

“Well, let’s not waste time. Anytime you dance, I’m happy.”

Friday Fictioneers – Still The One

(Author’s note: Moving to a new location on Friday. Getting this out while I have a chance. Enjoy!)

© C.E. Ayr

Still The One

by Miles H. Rost

Martin stared out at the oil platforms of the Pacific, the sand slowly working its way around his toes, when she sidled up.

“It’s been 30 years, you know,” she said.

“I’ve thought a lot about it. When did you know that we were gonna be together?”

Claire ran her fingers through her long blondish-grey hair, capturing her thoughts.

“Probably sophomore year, when you snapped my bra in math class.”

Martin crinkled his face at that.

“Not my best moment, dear.”

“Well, not after I slugged you. At least I took care of you after.”

“And have been. For 30 years.”

Friday Fictioneers – These Dreams

(Author’s note: Hi. You’ve probably noticed that I haven’t written for about a month now. Work got crazy, and my mind got really really tired. I needed to rest after all the work that I had to do. As such, my mind has become a bit stale. So, here’s an offering that may not necessarily be the best, but it’ll be good enough for jazz.)

© Roger Bultot

These Dreams

by Miles H. Rost

4 weeks. Mindless data entry. Sleep…

But I need to write.

Walking walking walking. Oh, let’s see about this door…

*slam*

Oh. I guess not that idea. Let’s try this one.

*clink. clink clink clink clink*

You gotta be kidding me. Can I not even find an idea to work with. Let’s try this next one.

*open*

“I AM YOUR BED. I ORDER YOU TO SLEEP IN ME! UGHLALALAL—“

*slam*

Aw hell naw. Okay, last one. Let’s see…

*click*

“Ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding…”

I don’t know what this is…but I think I have my next story!

Friday Fictioneers – Lady

(Author’s note: A lot of life stuff happened over the last couple weeks. I am hoping to have a Fictioneers next week as well, and maybe even a unique story-ette. However, here’s today’s fictioneers!)

Lady

by Miles H. Rost

When your mind is full, sometimes you just have to sit on a toilet, and El knew this well.

His creative process took him to many places, but sometimes, the bathroom was where he needed to be.

He thought about Brenda, his beautiful wife of four years. He thought about how he looked forward to her days. The ideas flowed onto the paper, as he sat on the throne.

He poured out all that he had been feeling since he married her, even when he was gone with his band. He wanted to be home, and this was his ticket.

El and Brenda. You know him better as Lionel Richie.

Here’s the link to the seemingly tall tale of writing “Lady” on the commode.

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Friday Fictioneers – New Day For You

(Author’s note: A second one in a month? Holy! He’s back!)

(see the lower left corner)

A New Day For You

by Miles H. Rost

Blue eyes behind purple rimmed glasses peered from behind the auditorium door.

The 2,000 seat venue crackled with energy, with cheers for the opening band as they finished.

“Charlotte! Charlotte!”

The chant started from a far side, growing from a couple boys in the back, and slowly crashed over everyone in a wave.

“Didn’t think that a 2 year hiatus would make you more popular, did ya?”

Charlotte Tetravalova flipped around, surprised to see her agent.
“Are you ready? Looks like your band is,” her agent responded.

Charlotte smiled, tucking her glasses into her pocket.

“I’m always ready for a comeback, babe.”

Friday Fictioneers – Inside A Dream

(Author’s note: I turn 41 tomorrow. There’s a lot going on. Let’s just get to it.)

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (The BlogMom!)

Inside A Dream

by Miles H. Rost

Delia’s eyes grew wide at the organizer on her daddy’s desk.

“Daddy, can I have paper clip?”

Her father looked down and smiled. His beautiful 6 year old came to work with him, due to inservice days at school. He sat down and lifted her onto his lap, and plucked a silver paper clip out.

Delia worked her fingers, bending, unbending; like lightning she moved. Daddy just closed his eyes, taking the quick break that he was hoping for.

“I’m done!”

He opened his eyes, and looked down at Delia, who had made a house out of one clip.

“How Beautiful!”

Friday Fictioneers – Dreams (Gone)

(Author’s note: Merry Christmas!)

© Trish Nankivell

Dreams (Gone)

by Miles H. Rost

Teddy stood, brushing the sand and dust off his clothes.

He lodged the large, uncut opal into the top of the headstone.

“Ay, da. I buried ya where the paper told me.”

Teddy’s father spent most of his life in the holes next to where he now laid. His fortune was in opals, a dangerous job with a great reward. The cancer treatments, though, depleted that fortune and left it all gone. By the time Teddy showed up, it was too late. He died.

“I’ll be back soon, da. I have to close this deal on oil with the Singaporeans.”