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.)

 

icicles-dale-rogerson

© 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 – Snow On The Sahara

(Author’s Note: First week of new job doing fine. Hope to be back to mini-story writing next week. Here’s tonight’s fictioneers, with a song from my own personal deep cuts collection!)

january-snowfall-nighttime

© Sarah Potter

Snow On The Sahara

by Miles H. Rost

The expedition was lost.

First, it was Mina. Then Charles. Packi, the Tunisian warlord. Finally, Julian.

The faces of the two that remained were covered in sand, fine particles of silica that stung their eyes.

“So, where do we go from here, O great navigator?” Marisa said, changing the towel on the back of her cap.

“Well, we should be heading close to the Chott al Djerid, but…”

Marisa let out a whoop as she felt cold hit her skin. She looked up, and saw dark grey clouds and white flakes falling.

“Can you believe it? Snow! We are close!”

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Friday Fictioneers – The Winter Long

Hello, Fictioneer readers! I had to take a break from fictioneering last week due to the holidays, and the fact that I was not in the right state of mind to write at that time. I am back, and likely to have a few new stories out soon. But first…today’s Fictioneers story:

copyright Janet Webb

The Winter Long
by Miles Rost

The winter was the longest one that was on record. Cold temperatures kept people inside, the snow sometimes sealed them in like a tomb.

“Honey, do you think we’ll ever be able to leave?”

“Well, sweetie, look out the window.”

They walked over to their window, and looked at a tree with most of it’s leaves on, brown as they may have been.

“Those leaves have stayed on that tree all winter so far. If they can do it, we can do it.”

Honey looked back at her sweetie, smiling bashfully.

“Hold onto me, and I’ll hold on to you.”

Sweetie looked back at his honey, and enclosed his arms around her.

“This winter long, I will always be with you.”

Cold outside, but very warm inside.