Friday Fictioneers

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Friday Fictioneers – Steady On

(Author’s note: A month has gone by. Life has been crazy, the hours have not been consistent. Such is what happens when you have overtime, as well as multiple appointments for things like the dentist and the doctor. Thankfully things are getting a little more consistent, and should be more regular post-Halloween. Here’s today’s fictioneers!)

© The Boss (Rochelle Wisoff-Fields)

Steady On

by Miles H. Rost

“How can I help ya?”
“GYAH!”

Portia jumped back as an old man with unkempt hair popped up from behind a makeshift counter.

“Sorry for scaring ya, miss. What do ya need?”
“Are you Dr. Chambers?”
“I am.”
“I was sent over from the dean of the History Department.”
“Ah, have they decided on whether to approve my class schedule, and move me out of this dreary office?”
“Uh…”
“What is it?”
“You might want to read it.”

He took the note and opened it. His eyes moved like a typewriter.

“Lifetime Achievement Award?! The Bastards are they retiring me!”

Friday Fictioneers – Digging Up Bones

(Author’s note: I’ve been working overtime, which is one reason why last week had no Fictioneers submission from me. But in my quest to set up healthy habits, including writing 1000 words a day, I’ve now been able to incorporate Friday Fictioneers into that habit section. I am now ready to go. So here’s today, with music from a very underappreciated artist.)

© Alicia Jamtaas

Digging Up Bones

by Miles H. Rost

“All the items you are to take are over there, the rest of the items that are with me and the house are on the other side.”

Paul folded his arms, as Lindsay started to explode.

“That’s it?! That’s all from 15 years of marriage?”
“You really didn’t bring much to it. It shows.”

Lindsay fumed, as she started rifling through the items. She breathed a sigh of relief at finding a set of photo albums.

“Well, at least you didn’t keep the albums.”
“Why would I? I may be a horrible monster, but I know what’s precious to you.”

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Friday Fictioneers – Hysteria

(Author’s note: Nothing to note. Just good stuff coming!)

© Lisa Fox

Hysteria

by Miles H. Rost

Pastor Tom was always a bit odd, but people didn’t know what to think when they say a pontoon in the front of the church.

“Oh, it’s just there until I go fishing this weekend.”

For the entire week, the pontoon was the talk of the small town. Some called it sacrilege of the church, some called it economical.

The town manager wanted it gone.

“It’ll be gone by Sunday night, ma’am,” Pastor Tom said, smiling.

Sunday morning, nearly the whole town showed up for service. Pastor Tom walked out and smiled broadly.

“You will all be fishers of men…”

Not sure what you’re waiting for: Come on it! Click the multicolored frog to read more!
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Friday Fictioneers – Radioactive (II)

(Author’s note: I was going to write last weekend, but I was in the middle of being sick from Corona-chan. So instead, I am here today, with a different story! Enjoy!)

© David Stewart

Radioactive

by Miles H. Rost

An innocent looking tool shed, with 9 blocks surrounding it evacuated for cause.

They had said that the only reason anyone noticed was due to the two neighborhood cats glowing in the dark a day before being found dead.

The young man who owned the tool shed said he was simply finishing his last project for his boy scout badge.

A fully operational nuclear reactor, small in scale but not in punch, was not something that the people of the neighborhood imagined they’d find.

The Department of Energy loaded the shed up, contents and all. The boy got his badge.

Appropriate Song…. XD
The story about the Nuclear Boy Scout. Enjoy!
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Friday Fictioneers – You Make My Dreams Come True

(Author’s note: I skipped posting the last couple of weeks due to my travels down to Houston. I had an absolute blast with people at a writer’s gathering, and at the anime convention across the street. I got a lot of inspiration, just getting back into the swing of things is going to be the important part. Which is why I am posting this story today.

Oh, and to Haileigh, if you’re reading this: Thanks!)

© Roger Bultot

You Make My Dreams Come True

by Miles H. Rost

Geno’s Cheesesteak, a warm afternoon, and the radio.

Harvey couldn’t have had a better day. A paid half a day off due to a delayed component, and his paycheck already cashed and deposited, was the impetus for sitting and having some good food.

The sounds of Hall and Oates wafted through the air, their latest hit adding extra sonic food to his buffet of the day. He bopped his head along to the sound of the Yamaha CP30, slowly enjoying his sandwich.

Finishing his cheesesteak, he stood from the cement seat to leave.

Full belly, full soul, full day.

Yes, Virginia… they were from Philly, too!
Join us! You know you wanna!
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Friday Fictioneers – Wine Night

(Author’s note: Make sure you play the music while reading the story, as it is especially important for the story. Enjoy!)

© Fleur Lind

Wine Night

by Miles H. Rost



Waiters always look, and Andrew Cavasa was no different.

As a supervising waiter, he had to be out on the floor to watch employees and patrons alike, and judge performance in his notetaking.

Snatching up the wine glass on table 12, he recalled the quartet of teachers who put down 2 bottles of 2012 Chateauneuf du-Pape. He chuckled at the redhead teacher that seductively danced to the smooth jazz that provided the atmosphere. He never knew teachers like that in school.

It was these small deviations of the day that made his job worth the while.

He liked to watch.

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Friday Fictioneers – Bloom

(Author’s note: After a month of preparing, moving, and finally getting ensconced in my location, I’ve now moved out of the big city and I’m now out in a small town. It already feels good, even if it’s unusual for how I’ve been living. Anyhow, here’s some new Fictioneers with a song that I first heard in a coffee shop in Seoul back in 2016.)

© Dale Rogerson

Bloom

by Miles H. Rost

Pierre thumped forward as the brakes took hold.

He did not see the stop sign until just about late. Had he ran the sign, he would have run into Renault that turned from the side street.

It had been the case all week where he would see the bloom and become transfixed. He nearly wiped out an Uber driver, two semis, and a Polizei cruiser with his inattentiveness.

He pulled over and got out, sitting on the hood of the car and gazing lost at the blooms. He sighed, alternating between the blooms and a picture of his deceased child.

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Friday Fictioneers – Angel Flight (Like An Angel)

(Author’s note: Things are getting busier as my time to move happens, but I have time to write, so write I will. Taking a cue from David Stewart, my good buddy over at the Green Walled Tower, here’s today’s fictioneers!)

© David Stewart

Angel Flight (Like An Angel)

by Miles H. Rost

Opal Creek Pool was breathtaking.

A natural deep pool carved from bedrock at the bottom of a 15-foot waterfall. It was deep enough to dive and not hit bottom.

But for the group of teens from South Salem High School, they weren’t paying attention to the surroundings. They were focused on Angela Beach, the supposed school recluse, standing on the edge of the waterfall in a stunning bikini.

She dove in, her hands pointing just like a professional, and she quickly disappeared into the water. All the teens, especially the men, would swear she was like an angel taking flight.

Join the fun here! Click the frog!
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Friday Fictioneers – Blueberry Hill

(Author’s note: I’m incredibly sorry for the lack of posting through May. A lot has happened, but it is looking like July is going to be a great month for production, as I am moving from my current location to a place farther out from urban civilization. So, to celebrate my impending move, here’s today’s fictioneers!)

© Brenda Cox

Blueberry Hill

by Miles H. Rost

They all said Harlan Fisher was crazy.

“Why would go so far out to sell your blueberries?”

All Harlan would do is smile, as he took his tent to the side of the road at the top of the hill.

Months later, a marathon was scheduled to run through the town, right by Harlan’s hillside stand.

Harlan waited at the top, pitchers of purplish juice ready and waiting to pour.

Runner after runner passed, taking swig after swig of the refreshing juice.

After the race was done, Harlan just sat and looked out at the valley.

Now they knew why.

Click the frog to find more stories like this!
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Friday Fictioneers – When Summer Ends

(Author’s note: Life is treating me a bit better. Spring has sprung, and so has the mood to write. Here we go, starting with Today’s Fictioneers!)

©Ted Strutz

When Summer Ends

by Miles H. Rost

Looking down the hill, Itaewon Street was packed for a Sunday afternoon.

Clubbers, university students, foreign workers and teachers, all were gathering in this international section of Seoul. A cross-section of Korean society could be found here most weekends.

Nigerian farmworkers and South African university teachers mingle with Koreans, of both South and North varieties, at barbecue shacks. Americans and Canadians milled about, looking for respite from the arduous week of teaching.

This was the place to be on the weekend, to not feel so alone in a foreign culture. A place to belong.

It still is the foreigners place.

Picture courtesy of expedia.ca