Friday Fictioneers – Bird Is The Word

(Author’s note: Big things to announce soon, not necessarily blog related, but we’ll see how things work. Otherwise, enjoy!)

© Douglas McIlnoy

Bird Is The Word

by Miles H. Rost

“You. You are a birdbrain!”

Ornithological expert Phil Kilanowski looked up from his desk.

“Come again?”

“You are a birdbrain. That’s all you have on your mind!” his wife, Melanie, cried out. She had a crow on each shoulder.

“Oh! You made friends with Phobos and Deimos! Excellent! This is great for my study on the social habits of crows!”

Melanie blinked.

“And the osprey in the living room?”

“Oh, he’ll be back at the university next week.”

“No, he’ll be back at the university tonight. Along with all others. Or your dinner will taste like chicken.”

Phil’s face went white.

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Friday Fictioneers – Moon Over Georgia

(Author’s note: I’m sick. This means my brains are warped. Enjoooo~oy!)

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© Ted Strutz

The Moon Over Georgia
by Miles H. Rost

The voice was husky, tough yet soft.

“You have a choice, Melinda.”

The werewolf turned around and stared at his daughter, a blonde-furred beauty.

“Your inheritance will be released to you early, if you marry Martin.”

He gestured to a black-furred werewolf from a tribe in Idaho.

“Or marry Gerald, whom you claim to love; and renounce everything, yet be free of the curse.”

He gestured to a plain-looking, bespectacled man of around 30.

Melinda looked, then latched onto Gerald and jumped off the yacht.

Melinda bobbed up after a moment; her fur and muzzle both gone.

She would marry Gerald, instead.


(Warning: Strong Language.) (This is the inspiration, in a way.)

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Friday Fictioneers – Human Touch

(Author’s notes: A lot of things will be happening in the next couple months, mostly outside of this blog. But, I plan to do everything in my power to make sure that some benefits reach each one of you, my readers. I am hoping to see some fruit come soon, and I pray that you all will be enjoying things.

Also, quick greetings to all comers from My Music Canvas and Oh My Gloss!. Welcome to Music and Fiction! Put your feet up and read a bit! Here’s today’s fictioneers!)

red-apple-rest-jhc

© J. Hardy Carroll

by Miles H. Rost

The machinist always worked quietly in the back of the building.

He kept to his work, only coming up to meet people to collect payment.

He was young, good looking, but painfully shy. His bravery shown through when wielding metal and acetylene torches.

He heard a clang up at the front. Grabbing a torch, he creeped up behind large metal sheets, and caught the noisemaker as they were coming around the corner.

“Who are you?” he demanded, looking into the welding mask of the culprit.

The mask went up, revealing a pretty woman’s face.

“I’ve been looking for you, Machinist.”

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Friday Fictioneers – Breaking Hearts

(Author’s note: Thank you, everyone, for your notes on last week’s fictioneers. It was a big undertaking, though people may not have known it. Anyhow, here’s this week’s fictioneers!)

old-shoes-cobwebs

© Sarah Potter

Breaking Hearts (Ain’t What It Used To Be)

by Miles H. Rost

Paul froze, chilled by what he saw.

The old pair of shoes, the ones he used to wear when stepping out, lay sprawled in the back of his closet.

The shoes reminded him of what others termed “the good old days”, the days when free blow and free sex was in high supply.

He violently flung them out the window of his brownstone, one shoe accidentally smashing into a cat perched on top of a garbage can.

Paul moved slowly to his couch, the place he spent the most time. Covered up under a blanket, he awaited his fate.

Alone.

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Friday Fictioneers – Hold On My Heart

(Author’s note: A couple things to add this time.

First, I’d like to welcome a new person to the link-world of Music And Fiction. My good friend Sarah Kim does a special music blog, called My Music Canvas, where she features lots of different music from all over. She’s an incredible musical soul, and someone who is very passionate about it. And being as this blog IS called “Music and Fiction”, there had to be a good connection. So everyone should go over to My Music Canvas, and drop a little note to Sarah about the music she looks at and discusses.

Next, this last year has been a bit of a difficult one in trying to write more than just fictioneers. However, I did write a very short story. It was something I just needed to get out, and even though the wording may seem unbelievable, it really doesn’t matter. It’s something that needed to be written and posted on here. So if you have the notion, go over to my longer-fiction work called “No Promises“, and enjoy.

Now, onto a very heart-laden Friday Fictioneers (which like most of my stories are not based on true events, unless I say so. ^_-)

hearty-bread

© Kelvin M. Knight

Hold On My Heart

by Miles H. Rost

He scraped the knife across the piece of bread.

The peanut butter rolled on like a blanket, melting slightly as it touched the hot dough.

Rolling like the tear that tumbled down his cheek.

Each spread brought one more tear.

He dipped the sticky knife into the jar of homemade cherry jam, pulling out the red preserves.

He sniffed.

He spread the thick and sweet concoction on the other slice.

Another tear teetered on his chin.

He wrapped the sandwich, and put it in his bag. He dried his face, and sighed.

He found that tears added something to sandwiches.

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Friday Fictioneers – I Just Died In Your Arms Tonight

(Author’s note: The song doesn’t match, but I couldn’t find one for “You died of dysentery”. Otherwise, Enjoy!)

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© Danny Bowman

I Just Died In Your Arms Tonight

by Miles H. Rost

“This is not fun.”

“Oh, come on, Dave. This is the adventure of a lifetime! To really live and breathe as your ancestors did all those years ago.”

“All my ancestors died of dysentery, Rachel. Only one line was able to make it.”

“But, your family did make it to Oregon didn’t it?”

“Yeah, but most of them died of dysentery!”

“I get that…I really do. But that doesn’t matter because you’re here now. And you’re living as they did.”

“When I said I wanted to play Oregon Trail, it was the computer game.”

“Oh…Uh… Check supplies again?”

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Friday Fictioneers – I Don’t Know Why You Don’t Want Me

(Author’s Note: None. Fictioneers Ahoy!)

smallpox-hospital-roger-bultot

© Roger Bultot

by Miles H. Rost

 

Serenity.

It’s what Holly Blankenship always wanted.

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.

She sighed, turning around again.

Alone again.

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