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Friday Fictioneers – Bow Tie

Author’s note: Sickness is never a friend. And last week was pretty awful. So I am doing better and have something a little more… whimsical? Let’s read!

© Amanda Forestwood

Bow Tie

by Miles H. Rost

For that moment, only the sounds of panting could be heard through the hall.

Followed by a single person clapping.

“Well done! Well done both of you! Your ability has left you two in a “bow tie”.”

Charles Crumb, the concertmaster for the New Seattle Pops and Bluegrass Orchestra, smiled as the two fiddlers stood on the stage.

“In fact, I think both of you could fit with our company.”

We’re only auditioning for one newbie, Crumb’s assistant whispered.

“Bah! Who’s the guy we have again?”

“Mark O’Connor, sir.” Assistant replied.

“Fire him today. We’re bringing these two on board.”

Why not try and read more?

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Friday Fictioneers – Country Boy

(Author’s note: Still in the process of finding a job, but I am getting a bunch of looks. Hope to have something soon, even if it’s temporary. Gotta make money to spend money. Here’s tonight’s fictioneers!)

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© Jill Wisoff

Country Boy

by Miles H. Rost

“Get me outta here.”

Carl Baker wanted to go home. He wanted to be with his horses, apricot orchard, and all the things he loved.

His wife wanted to see the Big City. Rockefeller Center was the bullseye for the trip.

“Dang, honey. That building’s big.”

“It’s said that the family built it, then they sold it off.”

“Well, they kinda had to. After all, it was my family that cut them off in the depression.”

His wife looked at him strangely.

“Your family knew the Rockefellers?”

“We owned the bank. The Rockefellers were city slickers. Can we go now?”

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Friday Fictioneers – I’m Holding My Own

No news, just Fictioneers:

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© Jan Wayne Fields

I’m Holding My Own

by Miles H. Rost

“Mitch, how long have you been living out here for?”
“Well, Sheena threw me out about two and a half years ago, and I didn’t find this place until the fall. I’d probably say almost two years now.”

The man took a long draught of his brew, looked around at Mitch’s “home”.

“And you like it here?”
“Yeah. I go to work for 8 hours, then come home to nature.”
“What about heat?”
“Sleeping bag, and if necessary, a good woman.”

The man took another long draw from his bottle.

“I have what I need right here. I am quite content.”

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