Friday Fictioneers – Take Me Home

(Author’s note: Nothing. Just letting the writing and music flow. Enjoy!)

jhc-asylum

© J. Hardy Carroll

Take Me Home

by Miles H. Rost

“So, Travis. Tell me where you went.”

Travis fidgeted and looked down at his feet.

“Travis, you know you can tell me.”

He looked up, his eyes bright.

“I was in Korea. It was so beautiful, with all the tall buildings in the distance. Seoul was beautiful, and I wish I could have seen more of it than what I did.”

The soft sound of writing filled the empty space.

“Then what?”

“Green. And red. Heat. The smell of decay. No more buildings. No more people. Charred meat.”

Writing paused.

‘Alright, Travis. Let’s go get your lunch and some pills.”

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Friday Fictioneers – Walls

(Author’s note: Things have been quite busy this week. Bad experiences abounded, but good things are to come. Week 6 of uni has almost come to a close, and there’s another 7-8 weeks left to go. But, some big stories will be done soon, as I will need time to just sit and write and detox from writing essays. You all may be recipients of the work. Anyhow, here’s today’s Friday Fictioneers, with a bit of Australian flair involved.)

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Walls

by Miles H. Rost

“What’s the number on this one?” Senior Constable Alistair MacKaye asked.
“Looks like this is the fifth one,” his partner, Constable Jacklyn Brandt replied.
“And I’ve been called out here six times in the past month.”
“I don’t understand, is there something about this place?”

Alistair just gazed at his young charge.

“Jackie, do you know anything about icehouses?”
“Nah. Never heard of them back in the bush.”
“It’s a nuthouse. They like the walls. Sometimes they climb them.”
“And then?”
“Some of them fall off.”
“Isn’t that a travesty?”
“Eh, I don’t mind the walls. They keep us safe.”

Friday Fictioneers – Burning Down The House

(Author’s note: Welcome aboard! So after the adventures of being SO creative last week, I had to deal with a week of problems and work. It is likely I will only be posting Fictioneers stuff for this week and next week, as I have a lot of assignments due for workshopping this week, as well as getting things started for some of my larger papers. So, for now, here’s the latest Friday Fictioneers story.)

 

© C.E. Ayr

Burning Down The House

by Miles H. Rost

Tom Corrigan extended his middle finger toward his unfinished project.

As he drove his gas tanker on the expressway, he passed by the old building that was to be his crowning achievement. Or, rather, the demolition that was.

“That damn building cost me my job,” he grumbled to himself.

For but a moment he thought of this, then switched lanes and exited onto a side street. He took another turn, heading back the direction he went. He reached the street that the landmark building stood on and sneered at it.

“I can’t let a job go unfinished,” he cried out, mashing the gas and shifting the gears.