Friday Fictioneers

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Friday Fictioneers – The Red Shoes

(Author’s Note: I have one or two things that need to be addressed this weekend, but I am planning to work on some new longer works coming up soon. Otherwise, here’s today’s fictioneers…if you dare read…)

shoes-and-books-by-magaly-guerrero
© Magaly Guerrero

“Eric, you better come home this instant!”

“But, honey! I just got a promotion, and the boys are celebrating.”

“Not tonight you aren’t. You may have been promoted, but you’re still my husband. Get back here now!”

“But honey…”

“If you don’t come home, I’m putting on the red shoes.”

Silence.

“Roxanne?”

“Yes, Eric honey?”

“You don’t have to put on the red shoes. Or the red dress tonight. I’ll be home shortly.”

*click*

Roxanne sat back, chuckled as she looked at the box with the magic butt-kicking shoes inside.

“Best five dollars I ever paid.”

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Friday Fictioneers – Let Me Go Home

(Author’s note: After having 2 and a half of the toughest weeks that I’ve ever had, including fighting off illness and dealing with a crapton of stress that just wouldn’t quit, I’m largely doing okay. Here’s Today’s fictioneers.)

 

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©Dale Rogerson

 

by Miles H. Rost

The couch was the point of no return.

Harvey sat, his legs curled up underneath, exhaustion seeping from every pore of his body.

It was so bad, he couldn’t eat properly. The gourmet pizza, and bottle of expensive wine, sat barely touched on a counter. He could eat it later, but by that time, the wine might have turned to vinegar.

He sat, staring at the blank wall in front of him, the couch being his place of refuge.

He wanted out of his life, but had to return to the 9 to 5 the next morning.

In his exhaustion, he cried.

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Friday Fictioneers – Situation

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

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© Jellico’s Stationhouse

by Miles H. Rost

Ron Bellio wheeled up alongside his pals, his small wire bike with big monster wheels in the back overshadowing the others.

“Hey, Ronny! Where’d you get the mutant?”
“Oh, the bike? Yo mamma!”
“What you say?!”

The sound of teasing filled the air, along with laughter and music as they rode down the street.

“Did you hear about Ali?”
“What about her?”
“She hit number one on the dance charts!”
“Auntie Ali?! Fat Ali?!”

Ron looked at his friends, smirking that his friends were talking about his cousin.

“You shouldn’t call her fat. She’s got more muscle than all you now.”

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Alison Moyet, of the duo “Yazoo” (aka Yaz)

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Friday Fictioneers – Another Place

(Author’s note: I am hoping to do some cleanup and addressing of things in the upcoming future, but I’m unfortunately having to focus some of my off-time to completing the creation of tests and development of school related things. I plan to have an updated “State of the Blog” coming sometime around late April. Otherwise, here’s today’s fictioneers.)

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© Fatima Fakier Deria

by Miles H. Rost

Chengcheng looked up at the mast of her small junk. She knew it wouldn’t get her far.

 

“I must try. If I do not, I die.”

She looked out at the sea and smiled as a seagull took off in flight, exactly in the direction she wanted to go.

“A gull’s wings fly with the wind.”

She slowly moved the junk out into the harbor and along the coast. She figured it would take a day to get to Taiwan, to freedom.

The craft cleared and charted it’s course. It was up to the winds to get her to freedom.

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Friday Fictioneers – Got A Hold On Me

(Author’s Note: Nothing new to report. Here’s a fictioneers story.)

gateway-jhardy

© J. Hardy Carroll

Got A Hold On Me

by Miles H. Rost

Harley Parkinson looked at his inheritance, an old structure of a building he once lived in.

“Harley! Came to look at the place?”
He saw her. His old friend, and caretaker of the residence, Carissa Blanks.

“You’ve taken care of the place.”
“Since you left a decade ago.”
“Well, you’ve always been a good friend of the family.”
“Though, I’ve always thought it would be better to be part of the family.”

Harley chuckled, as he looked up.

“Remember what we did in the attic?”
“Yep. Have proof of it.”
“Huh?”

A 10 year old girl peeked from behind her mom.

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Friday Fictioneers – Big Dreams In A Small Town

(Author’s note: None. It’s March, I’m a month into my work at my school, and I am hard at work on stories. However, I will say that some of my fellow fictioneers may be contacted soon for permission to use their 100 word stories in my adults class on Fridays. Be prepared!)

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© Jennifer Pendergast

Big Dreams In A Small Town

by Miles H. Rost

“Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”
“When? After we graduate next week?”
“Yeah. Have you put any mind into your plans? Or maybe…even me?”

Mariko smiled at her boyfriend.

“Well, since winning state with the pop singers, I talked with the other two in our group. We could get a drummer and start working on an album.”

Her boyfriend looked aghast at her.

“Do you think we have time for that?”
“Big dreams and big wheels. That’s what I see. We got time for it.”

They looked up to the sky, hoping to see their fortune.

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Friday Fictioneers – The Bug

(Author’s Note: Getting things ready for a new 1000+ word story for the blog. Thanks to Lisa Young, my colleague here in Korea, who is also doing a story as a two-person challenge. Shapes will be abounding. In the meantime, here’s your Fictioneers.)

yellow-bug-shaktiki

Photo Prompt © Shaktiki Sharma 

The Bug

by Miles H. Rost

“Daisy, I told you that I’m just going to sit up here until someone notices me and screams. Then I’ll fly off.”
“Trent, realize that you’re a mantis wasp. People will be afraid, but you’re going to get smacked.”
“Bah. I’m big and people don’t smack big things around. They just run like crazy and we get our jollies off of them.”
“You’re gonna get killed. I’m not watching this. I’m outta here.”
“But wait, Daisy…”

Trent looked out at the people in the temple.

“Oh well, looks like I’ll just have to…”

Crunching was the last sound he heard.

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Friday Fictioneers -Sunshine

(Author’s note: It’s 3-1 in Korea, Revolution Day. This means a day off. The only one I’ll have for the next 2 months. So today, I give my best! Enjoy! And there will be more stories during the week as I go walking and enjoying the nice weather.)

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© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Sunshine

by Miles H. Rost

“I wish I could travel,” Rockne said, staring at the bright clouds above.

“Where would you go? Not many people leave Blackford County,” his cousin, Marcus, replied.

“I dunno. I had a dream of beautiful girls in robes recently.”

“Are ya thinking of Japan?”

“Maybe. Korea sounds pretty cool, too.”

Marcus turned to his side and looked at Rockne.

“You got the hots for Yumin in science class.”

“Whaaaaaaaa?”

“She’s from Korea, and quite nice to look at.”

Rockne squinted, as the sun came out.

“She’s Korean-American. She’s from Portland.”

“Oh.”

“But yeah, she’s my ray of sunshine…”

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Friday Fictioneers – Snow On The Sahara

(Author’s Note: First week of new job doing fine. Hope to be back to mini-story writing next week. Here’s tonight’s fictioneers, with a song from my own personal deep cuts collection!)

january-snowfall-nighttime

© Sarah Potter

Snow On The Sahara

by Miles H. Rost

The expedition was lost.

First, it was Mina. Then Charles. Packi, the Tunisian warlord. Finally, Julian.

The faces of the two that remained were covered in sand, fine particles of silica that stung their eyes.

“So, where do we go from here, O great navigator?” Marisa said, changing the towel on the back of her cap.

“Well, we should be heading close to the Chott al Djerid, but…”

Marisa let out a whoop as she felt cold hit her skin. She looked up, and saw dark grey clouds and white flakes falling.

“Can you believe it? Snow! We are close!”

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Friday Fictioneers – Three Of Me

(Author’s note: Starting next week, I will be taking a social media break. It will not impact writing, but contact on Twitter, Gab, and Facebook will be curbed for one month. E-mail will be alright, if you need to. Here’s today’s Fictioneers…)

broken-face-liz
© Liz Young

The Three Of Me

by Miles H. Rost

 If you could see what I’ve seen, you’d swear I was not normal.

I’m not.

On one hand, I see like a child. Innocence, virtue, trust, all in one place. One another hand, I see death, vindictiveness, the decay of the world. And on the third hand, the one never seen, there’s pain, deception, and even love.

Every slap a betrayal, every push a declaration of love, every tear a cry for relief and comfort. And each time I am asked the same question: Is it all worth it?

For these children marked from substance abuse: You’re damn right.

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