Friday Fictioneers – Slender Frame

(Author’s note: Everytime I say I’m going to write more and get things done, life sets me up with other curve balls. Lately, it’s been my health. Not anything particular, just dealing with tiredness due to the type of work I do. It makes a person lazy. But, today, I am feeling particularly well to write. So here we go!)

© David Stewart

Slender Frame

by Miles H. Rost

“Babes, wake up.”

Selena sat up slowly, bleary-eyed at the soft voice of her mate.

“You haven’t been eating much lately. I figured I’d do something nice for us today, Crepes, toast, eggs, bacon for me, and vegetables for you.”

She slowly scooted back, propping herself up against the headboard. She noticed dandelions in water next to the food.

“I haven’t been eating because I couldn’t keep anything down.”
“Is this how it’s going to be?”

He looked out the nearby window, sighing.

“Only for a short time. I mean, morning sickness doesn’t last that long.”
“I really hope so.”

Friday Fictioneers – Got A Hold On Me

(Author’s Note: Nothing new to report. Here’s a fictioneers story.)

gateway-jhardy

© J. Hardy Carroll

Got A Hold On Me

by Miles H. Rost

Harley Parkinson looked at his inheritance, an old structure of a building he once lived in.

“Harley! Came to look at the place?”
He saw her. His old friend, and caretaker of the residence, Carissa Blanks.

“You’ve taken care of the place.”
“Since you left a decade ago.”
“Well, you’ve always been a good friend of the family.”
“Though, I’ve always thought it would be better to be part of the family.”

Harley chuckled, as he looked up.

“Remember what we did in the attic?”
“Yep. Have proof of it.”
“Huh?”

A 10 year old girl peeked from behind her mom.

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Friday Fictioneers – Three Of Me

(Author’s note: Starting next week, I will be taking a social media break. It will not impact writing, but contact on Twitter, Gab, and Facebook will be curbed for one month. E-mail will be alright, if you need to. Here’s today’s Fictioneers…)

broken-face-liz

© Liz Young

The Three Of Me

by Miles H. Rost

 If you could see what I’ve seen, you’d swear I was not normal.

I’m not.

On one hand, I see like a child. Innocence, virtue, trust, all in one place. One another hand, I see death, vindictiveness, the decay of the world. And on the third hand, the one never seen, there’s pain, deception, and even love.

Every slap a betrayal, every push a declaration of love, every tear a cry for relief and comfort. And each time I am asked the same question: Is it all worth it?

For these children marked from substance abuse: You’re damn right.

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