Friday Fictioneers – (I Wanna) Kiss The Bride

(No notes, just write!)

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© Roger Bultot

(I Wanna) Kiss The Bride

by Miles H. Rost

“Who’s idea was it to make this pathway of barbecue nets?”

Mandy’s red, wrinkled finger pointed at the mosquito nets that lined the aisle.

“It’s to prevent all the mosquitos–”

“I don’t care. Take them down.”

“But, Miss–”

“I didn’t pay 34 thousand dollars for mosquito nets. This wedding will go net free!”

The workers started taking down the nets, with one muttering how it would be nice if the wedding went “nut free”.

Mandy looked around, and shook her head.

“My daughter is getting the wedding I didn’t. It has to go perfectly.”

She looked at a net, and cried.

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Friday Fictioneers – Wheel In The Sky

(Author’s note: It’s official. I leave Korea on February 21st. It’s done. Time for some Fictioneers!)

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© Ted Strutz

Wheel In The Sky

by Miles H. Rost

It looked like a shoddily-crafted TARDIS.

“What’s with the tire on top of the box?” Brian asked the mechanic.

“Oh, that’s for balance. It can lay flat, or straight up and down. Depends on what’s needed.”

“And what’s the purpose of this box?”

The mechanic just chuckled.

“It’s a new type of smoker. The wheel pulls a chain that moves the meat around.”

Meat has to move? I asked myself.

“More smoke at the bottom can penetrate, creating greater flavor for the meat.”

I looked at the mechanic and grinned.

“You’re a genius.”

“Nope, I just like heavily smoked sausages.”

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Friday Fictioneers – I Got The Message

(Author’s note: Merry Christmas, everyone! I hope to have more fiction that isn’t fictioneers based coming up soon. The biggest problem is that winter camp preparation is taking up a LOT of my time, and it’s annoying. 55 days until I am done with this job, and a couple more after before I go back to America. Here’s today’s fictioneers, and a Merry Christmas to all again!)

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© Bjorn Rudberg

I Got The Message

by Miles H. Rost

The stack of hats to the ceiling should have been the first clue.

The newest club here in Portland was supposed to be hip, the biggest place, and there was a line down the block to prove it.

I never take off my hat for anyone.

And here’s a big hulking monster named Tiny telling me I need to take off my hat.

“I never take off my hat!” I said, for the 54th time since entering the club.

“Tiny” looked at me and put his fist through a nearby wall.

No Hats Beyond This Point!

I got the message…

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Friday Fictioneers – Rush Hour

(Author’s Note: I have this strange feeling that I’m about to get blindsided with something at work, and things are in a lot of flux right now. I’ll be continuing at this level until, likely, February. To which I’ll be packing up and on the way back to the States. So I’ll try to keep up. Just beware. Here’s today’s fictioneers!)

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© Sandra Crook

Rush Hour

by Miles H. Rost

Preston’s first date in 12 years shouldn’t have ended up like this: Stuck on the interstate in a traffic jam.

He also didn’t expect his date to be flushed and shaking.

“Melanie, what’s going on now?”

“I…can’t hold on much longer.”

Preston’s eyes nervously looked over.

“You gotta hold on! Grrrrrr…”

He looked to his right. Clearance.

He gunned the engine and sped past a light pole. Fingers and horns went everywhere.

Minutes later, he finally pulled up to a building. He quickly got out and opened the door for Melanie.

She bounced out, tabby cat latched to her arm.

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Friday Fictioneers – The Icehouse

(Author’s note: Bronchitis, a cracked wrist that will soon be able to be out of splint permanently, and lots of work to do before winter camp next month. All of it is making me go crazy and want to get my vacation week that much sooner. Anyhow, here’s today’s fictioneers.)

 

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© Dale Rogerson

The Icehouse

by Miles H. Rost

“Winter is coming, Aunt Miranda.”

“I know.”

“You know that I have a place open for you in Coos Bay. It may not be warm, but it’ll be better than this place.”

Miranda brushed her slightly graying hair off her face.

“I know. But, I am going to stay. If my Keith comes back, where is he going to go?”

“But Uncle Keith is M.I.A. I don’t know if he will come back. At least if we get news, we can guide him to our home.”

“Thank you, child. But I’ll wait for him.”

Icicles started forming on the tree.

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Friday Fictioneers – Skating

(Author’s note: Doing something dangerous. Took off my splint and am writing this properly. Putting splint back on after it’s done, but so far…no problems. Anyhow, here’s today’s fictioneers…just for all y’all.)

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© The Court Jester of Friday Fictioneers, Russell Gayer

Skating

by Miles H. Rost

Running from the frozen lake, Brian Gerlach saw the open shed and the toilet.

“Brian, come on! We’ve only got another hour before our moms call us for dinner.”
“But I really gotta go!”
“Fine, but you’re on your own!”

He didn’t need their help. He’d use the toilet and get back to skating. It was winter after all.

He sat down on the snow-colored commode and did his business. He tried to stand up, but his behind wouldn’t budge.

Worse yet, the water around his skates had since frozen up.

He cried for help, worried that it wouldn’t come.

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Friday Fictioneers – Sweet Dreams

(Author’s note: Still in a splint. Things acting up, but I’ll be fine. 84 calendar days until I end my working career in Korea. As for today’s fictioneers, I originally was going to go with “Stuck In A Closet With Vanna White”, but I felt like something…more. Enjoy today’s fictioneers! )

closet

© R.W.F.

Sweet Dreams

 

by Miles H. Rost

“Desi…”

Desiree and Mike had been picked by lottery to end up in the closet. Mike was fully sober, but had been intoxicated by something much stronger than booze.

And he could not see anything.

“Mike…keep going.”

Hot and heavy it was, heightened by Air Supply on the portable radio beside them.

“Desi, my finger…it’s stuck.”

Everything stopped, except for the guitars in the song.

“That’s my bra, Mike. Take it off.”

Another moment of slight movement, and a sudden shift of things crashed down, including a clang.

“Mike?”

She felt around, finding a clock beside Mike’s head.

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