(Author’s note: I was off last week as it was my birthday week. I had a lot of things to do, so I got to them. Now that things are starting to calm down, I can get back to more regular writing. Keep an eye on this website for possibly more longer-form stories. Otherwise, here’s today’s fictioneers… Note: The song is very important. Listen and enjoy.)
Auf Immer Und Ewig (Forever and Ever)
by Miles H. Rost
A craving that could never be sated.
Nick gazed out towards the horizon, passing a glance over the ocean as though it wasn’t there.
Every month, he’d come to that very spot, and look out. It was a therapy, his father would say, a way to heal from the scars of the past.
“I always go there,” he said to his best friend one day, “because I want to go back. I left her back there, and I want to be with her just once more.”
It was all he would say about his tour back in Vietnam.
(Author’s note: Hey! You’ve probably wondered where I went over the last month. Well, honestly, with all the stuff going on in the world, I have been weary and tired. Haven’t been inspired. So, hopefully after today, I’ll be more inspired by the world around me. Here we go!)
She understood there was a price to be paid for having that serenity, and she was willing to pay it. For a while. The old ruins of the science building on campus gave it to her, and no one around to say anything.
But she didn’t want to be alone. She wanted serenity, without the loneliness.
“Excuse me. Is this ruin taken?” she heard from behind.
She whipped her head around at the male voice behind her. His eyes widened and he started to run away.
(Author’s note: After having 2 and a half of the toughest weeks that I’ve ever had, including fighting off illness and dealing with a crapton of stress that just wouldn’t quit, I’m largely doing okay. Here’s Today’s fictioneers.)
Harvey sat, his legs curled up underneath, exhaustion seeping from every pore of his body.
It was so bad, he couldn’t eat properly. The gourmet pizza, and bottle of expensive wine, sat barely touched on a counter. He could eat it later, but by that time, the wine might have turned to vinegar.
He sat, staring at the blank wall in front of him, the couch being his place of refuge.
He wanted out of his life, but had to return to the 9 to 5 the next morning.
(Author’s note: I will be doing some updates on this Chuseok weekend. I will also post a big personal non-story update, to give people an idea of what’s to come with Music and Fiction. In the meantime, here’s today’s fiction!)
She cut and removed pieces she didn’t need, like pieces of her life that were unusable. She slowly formed the rounded lump with her hands. Pushing and pulling the clay, smoothing it out with water, she slowly developed it into a shapely, beautiful vase.
She pulled out a brush and some glaze. She pulled out a small tin, and mixed the grey powder into the small jar of glaze. She painted the fired vase, and put it back in for more firing.
The final product stood in the entryway, a tribute to her dearly lost husband, who was now a part of the beautiful vase.
“So this is where you ended up, eh?”
“Yeah. Who would have thought that I would be the heir to the Sultanate.”
Mark O’Connor and Rahim Zaharia walked down the desert path within the walled town.
“10 years ago, we were pulling pranks on Melinda Clouse. And now you’re the Sultan of Watoomba.”
“8 years after becoming, I’m still not used to it. There are so many different things I have to do. Sometimes, I need an oasis from this desert.”
“Ever thought about coming back to the USA?”
Rahim shook his head.
“The people need me here. I am their oasis in this unforgiving desert.”
(Author’s Note: The first Fictioneers of 2016, and I’m doing something a little different: Unique name, same great music and fiction you’ve come to love and enjoy! Next week’s writing will come from Cheongju, South Korea.)
“I never though I’d see fireworks like this!”
“You mean, from ten thousand feet up in a jet?”
“This was a great idea, Mitch. You really made my New Year’s!”
“And I would like to make many more of these with you. Though, if you told me 9 years ago that I was going to be taking my worst enemy from high school up in my own private jet to celebrate New Year’s above Sydney…”
“And who would have though that I would actually be dating my sworn enemy in the first place.”
“Well, Melinda, they say people who hate each other sometimes really have too much love.”
“Wish I knew that back then. Would–“