Friday Fictioneers – Closing Time

(Author’s note: No note, just write!)

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Closing Time

by Miles H. Rost

“We’re locking up.”

The waitress teared up as we put on our jackets. I grabbed the last piece of biscuit on my way to the register.

“$24.50.”

I looked around at the reminiscent decor, all the things I loved that were on shelves just below the ceiling. I pulled a $100 out of my wallet, and gave it up.

“Are you sure…”
“Honey, this place gave me memories. Whatever isn’t for the bill, split it among you three.”

She finished ringing us up, smiling through it.

We walked out the door and saw her turn the sign to closed.

Forever.

Nothing more.

It’s a common thing nowadays, the last person out tips the best. With the virus, you never know when you’ll have to go home.

Friday Fictioneers – As Lights Fall

(Author’s note: Job is getting more hectic, more busy. Hoping to have more time now to do things. Didn’t get it last week. Here’s this week’s work:)

on-route-66-jean-l-hays

© Jean L. Hays

Reach

by Miles H. Rost

An investment of decades.

Bart slowly scanned the large stretch of land in Eastern Oregon that he called home. The sun was approaching the horizon, bathing him in an eerie orange.

He bought the land with a major investment he made just after World War II. He did well with the cattle, until he sold them a month before. The sale put into a safe trust for his grandchildren, provided they took up a marketable trade.

He put his back to the rock, and watched the sun go down.

As his final breath left him, it was his last call.

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter