Friday Fictioneers – Let Love Be The Leader

(Author’s Note: Nothing. Chickenpox is running rampant in the schools here, and I have to be very careful now. Washing hands, etc. everyday. It’s annoying. Here’s today’s fictioneers.)

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© Ted Strutz

Let Love Be The Leader

by Miles H. Rost

Annika Lane peeked out from behind the tree, hearing the purr of the Shelby Cobra Mustang creeping close.

Once she saw it, she picked up her backpack and ran. Jumping in the window, she snapped her seatbelt and yelled “go!”

Tire marks were all that were left behind as the driver and his young lady blazed a trail as far from the area as possible.

“Where are we going, Luke?”

Luke Palumbo looked back.

“Somewhere were love will lead us. We’ll catch the ferry. Then drive until empty.”

She smiled, knowing their safety was a mere ferry ride away.

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Friday Fictioneers – Bambou

(Author’s note: I am hoping to be posting more in the upcoming summer season. Especially since I won’t have TV to watch, and hopefully I won’t be tested and tired more than I am already. Enjoy tonight’s music and fiction!)

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© Dale Rogerson

Bambou

by Miles H. Rost

He took in everything from his corner of the bar.

He noticed a man of his size walking into the bar, and beelining towards him.

“So, ‘Hank’, why am I here?” the man asked ‘Hank’.

“It’s my place for meetings.”

“In the middle of the Caribbean? I had to plunk down a chip to get here.”

“You’re wanted for a job.”

The man sat down, his eyes never moving.

“They want you to take a singer out.”

“Out to dinner, a movie?”

“Out.”

“Who’s the singer?”

“Me.”

The man blinked. ‘Hank’ gave him an envelope.

“Do it quickly, please.”

Silence.

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Friday Fictioneers – Grazin’ In The Grass

(Author’s Notes: None. Write and go, as they say. Enjoy the fictioneers this week!)

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© Sarah Potter

 

Grazin’ In The Grass

 

by Miles H. Rost

Summer.

Hot and humid, but also quite a beautiful time for listening to music.

I’d spend many hours sitting in the breezeway of my house, listening to the radio and recording the disc jockeys doing their thing. It was something that really inspired me.

It went everywhere I would go, but it always returned to that breezeway, close to where Dad did his accounting work and where he’d grow hot peppers. The music of my youth, the soundtrack of my life.

Until I was sent outside to play by my mom. Then I had to take my music with me.

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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 – A White Sport Coat…

(Author’s note: Hoping to publish some actual stories in the near future. It’s more that right now I just need to survive the next three months at work. Once I get that done with, it’s all better sailing from there. Enjoy my throw back to the past. )

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© J. Hardy Carroll

A White Sport Coat (and a Pink Carnation)

by Miles H. Rost

40 years ago, I met a beautiful young lady named Michelle. We were in an art class at a local community center.

We grew close. We dressed up fashionably, to go out dancing and impress our friends on campus.

After each night of dancing, we’d doff our clothing and work on our art, painting each other in all that God gave us.

I told her that I would love her forever.

40 years later, I have bought the building, the old art hall where we met. The art hall that was destroyed by grenades fired by national guardmen.

The hall where she died.

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Friday Fictioneers – Love Is A Mystery

(Author’s note: Nothing again. Have a great week, and enjoy today’s fictioneers…with a song that many of you will likely never have heard, but will fall in love with.)

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© Roger Bultot

Love Is A Mystery

by Miles H. Rost

He sat at the counter of the diner, waiting for the other customers to leave. He’d be the last customer in there before the sign was flipped closed.

He took his last sip of coffee, when he heard the clicking of heels got closer.

“Miranda, it’s good to hear your shoes again.”

Miranda snorted, as she helped her date from the counter chair.

“No luck finding someone new?” she asked with a sneer

“Nah. Just found myself down here. Waiting for you to come get me.”

She smiled. She didn’t know why, but she just couldn’t give up him up.

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Friday Fictioneers – Children

(Author’s Note: None. Just enjoy today’s fictioneers! And Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms.)

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© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Children

The park was full of them. Each and every one of them a precious life.

It was always this way after the first warm-up of the season. Kids in their sweatshirts and jeans were playing. It was great for us adults to see.

I just turned onto 45th when the sun blazed between the two large buildings ahead. I squinted and got my visor down as quickly as possible.

That’s when I heard the thump.

Then the screams.

I stopped my car immediately, got out, and looked behind me.

She wore orange that day. I didn’t see her.

She was 12.

R.I.P. Roberto Concina (aka Robert Miles)

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