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Friday Fictioneers – Spring Growth

(Author’s note: None. Enjoy the Fictioneers!)

© Brenda Cox

Spring Growth

by Miles H. Rost

Xi Lin looked at the banks of the lake, burnt trees sticking up like used matchsticks.

She knew better, however. Being a scholar of the trees in both China and America, it helped her understand exactly what was going on. While the Camp Fire was massive, and wiped out so much acreage, she knew that there was growth within.

She peered down at herself and clutched her hands. The lesson of trees also applied to people who burned with passion, and yet had spent the fuel of a relationship.

She was growing as well, a single spring growth hidden within.

Go ahead, click the picture. See what else is out there!
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Friday Fictioneers – Set Me In Motion

(Author’s Note: Currently working on my summer plans, and it’s going to be quite interesting come August. Here’s today’s fictioneers, and if you know the title/song, then you know why I used it.)

 

charred-toys

© Karuna

Set Me In Motion

by Miles H. Rost

Sarah Jeon was in tears.

Her family home in rural Kentucky had burned down. It spread too fast for her to get the two small teddy bears that were her last connection to her birth mom in Korea.

While firemen hosed down the hollow house, one walked over from the remains of her bedroom, carrying something in a sheet.

“Little lady,” the 6-foot-5 firefighter boomed, as he kneeled down to look at the 8 year old, “This little one was looking for you.”

He opened the sheet, her bear only singed

“Kimchi!” she cried.

She hugged and cried into his shoulder.

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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.

 

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Friday Fictioneers – I Am The One And Only

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!”

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Friday Fictioneers – The Keeper Of The Flame

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.

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Friday Fictioneers: Break It To Me Gently

It’s Friday. That means Friday Fictioneers for this time period while I study and get things in order. Enjoy today’s selection!

fleeting-copyright-indira-mukherjee

copyright-Indira byway of Scott Vanatter

Break It To Me Gently

by Miles Rost

The truck whizzed down the street, blaring it’s horn and trying to get people out of it’s way.

“Breeeeeak iiiiiiit….to me gentlyyyyyyy.”

“Tommy, stop singing right now!”

“Why? I thought you liked this song.”

“Yes, the way Juice Newton sang it. But not when you, Mr. Firefighter of the year, attempt to kill it.”

“It’s my way of dealing with stress.”

“Like your job?”

“We’re going to put out a fire at a guitar factory, why not make it musical?”

The driver facepalmed in his mind, as he continued to race down the highway.