(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 Fictioneersstory.)
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.
Author’s Note: Very busy this week due to Australia stuff. Hence why no posts since last weekend. Got some downtime coming up, meaning more posts. 6 more weeks, and I’ll be able to post a lot more. Here’s your offering for today!
Copyright – Roger Bultot
I Am The One And Only
by Miles Rost
“Hey! Whitey! You look like you’re burning up!”
“C.H., just leave me alone.”
“But why? You are in trouble. you need help.”
“You’re the reason why this has happened!”
“I didn’t tell my tenants to come to you and start you on fire.”
“No, but I’m sure you did something to get them to do it.”
“Well, I did tell you that you should get yourself checked out in case something did happen. Gotta keep your health in good shape.”
“Yeah, and now your advice is going to kill me.”
“I did tell you that I’m the one and only on this block. Should have listened to me!”
Work has been kicking my butt lately, so I haven’t been as active as I like. Hopefully, I’ll be able to do better now that summer is leaving. Here’s my offering for the fictioneers this week.
copyright – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
The Keeper Of The Flame
I tend to these coals like they are my children. They’re the lifeblood of my tribe.
Without fire, my tribe would have died out a long time ago. Every generation has one person, a boy or a girl, who keeps these flames going constantly. These flames help make our food, bend our metal, and even forge our lore.
My great uncle was a keeper of the flames, my father as well, and it was passed to me when I turned 21. In the shade of the big buildings, there are very few of my kind left.
I am the keeper of the flame. This is my role, this is my life.