(Author’s note: Big things to announce soon, not necessarily blog related, but we’ll see how things work. Otherwise, enjoy!)
© Douglas McIlnoy
Bird Is The Word
by Miles H. Rost
“You. You are a birdbrain!”
Ornithological expert Phil Kilanowski looked up from his desk.
“You are a birdbrain. That’s all you have on your mind!” his wife, Melanie, cried out. She had a crow on each shoulder.
“Oh! You made friends with Phobos and Deimos! Excellent! This is great for my study on the social habits of crows!”
“And the osprey in the living room?”
“Oh, he’ll be back at the university next week.”
“No, he’ll be back at the university tonight. Along with all others. Or your dinner will taste like chicken.”
Phil’s face went white.
(Author’s note: G’day, everyone! First classes have come and gone for the week [or at least they will as of tomorrow night at 6:30PM]. I hope to be writing a bit more, considering I am going to need some time away from writing autobiographical pieces, biographical pieces, short fiction, and scripts. So much writing, so little time. Anyhow, here’s today’s Fictioneers.)
© G.L. MacMillan.
Ten Little Bottles
by Miles H. Rost
“Big ones! Small ones!” Beano slurred, “So many different types!”
Beano looked completely hammered. and fully animated. I was merely annoyed.
“Beano! What the heck are you talking about?!”
He turned his rotund frame my direction, and smiled one of those smiles that can irritate an IRS agent. It was the smile that I knew from my time in the Army with him.
Again, flustered was I.
“What about Mexico, Private?!”
“I found all these bottles in an empty house. And I drank them all.”
“And that’s why you’re drunk now?” I asked, blinking at him.
“Permanently drunk. Not sure how!”
And now people know why I will never visit Mexico.