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 – I Don’t Know Why You Don’t Want Me

(Author’s Note: None. Fictioneers Ahoy!)

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© Roger Bultot

by Miles H. Rost

 

Serenity.

It’s what Holly Blankenship always wanted.

She understood there was a price to be paid for having that serenity, and she was willing to pay it. For a while. The old ruins of the science building on campus gave it to her, and no one around to say anything.

But she didn’t want to be alone. She wanted serenity, without the loneliness.

“Excuse me. Is this ruin taken?” she heard from behind.

She whipped her head around at the male voice behind her. His eyes widened and he started to run away.

She sighed, turning around again.

Alone again.

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Friday Fictioneers – I Still Hear Your Voice

(Author’s note: Heyo! Classes are a bit hectic, but I may actually have some real stories up this week, depending on how things go. I realize that writing a bit longer-form may actually help me with my classes [especially my short fiction class], so be ready for some experimentation to come. Anyhow, here’s the latest Fictioneers offering.)

 

Photo Prompt © Madison Woods

I Still Hear Your Voice

by Miles H. Rost

Deception.

I feel as thought my heart has been pulled from its place, but I know it is still there. Despite what might have been, I still am able to continue on. I am confused as to why you had to go that route, though. Why would you submit yourself to all of that dreck?

I am not sure which direction to go now, as my path has been shaken up. I still hear your voice in the dark night, telling me the things that I want to hear.

But I hear a different voice now, one that says “time to move on.”