Friday Fictioneers

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Friday Fictioneers – Teardrop

(Author’s note: Things are crazy, and final exams are coming. I won’t likely be coming out with anything new besides Fictioneers stuff until after early November, due to how much energy I have to spend on writing essays. So here’s today’s Fictioneers.)

 

©Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Teardrop

by Miles H. Rost

Travis stood in the middle of the parking lot. He looked up, as drops started to fall onto his face.

The phone in his hand started ringing, as the rain started to pour down quickly.

“Hello?”
“Travis, this is Mike from Allied Textiles. I just wanted to call you and let you know that you have a job. Come in for orientation on Tuesday morning.”
“Thank you.”

He hung up the phone and gave a small smile, then started to cry. He opened the door of his truck, climbed in, and pulled a blanket around him.

As he slept, he cried.

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Friday Fictioneers – Windmills Of Your Mind

(Author’s Note: I am doing a little bit better, but won’t be on the full track for a little while. It’s the end of the term at uni! That means…so much fun. There is a possibility I may have to go dark for a week, but I am hoping that will not be the case. Here is today’s Fictioneers!)

 

Photo Prompt © Ted Strutz

Windmills of Your Mind

by Miles H. Rost

“How many applications did you put out this week?” Miguel asked, as he chewed on an apple.
“30 as of Thursday, with 15 more coming up,” Carmen replied.
“And how many do you expect callbacks on?”
“Probably about 5, at best.”
“Why do you do it, Carm?”

Carmen sat back, leaning herself against his leg.

“I think it’s because I want to be useful.”
“But you don’t necessarily have to work to be useful.”

She gave Miguel’s knee a kiss.
“I want to be useful for you. That’s why I do it.”

Miguel just raised his hands and smiled.

 

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Friday Fictioneers – The Name Of The Game

(Author’s Note: I am not sure about the things that are going on in my current life right now. I will update as I can, but I am not sure when I’ll be back to extra writings on the blog besides Friday Fictioneers. Here’s today’s offering.)

PHOTO PROMPT – © Marie Gail Stratford

The Name Of The Game

by Miles H. Rost

Mark Daniels kept clicking the mouse. He was barely listening to the person in front of him.

“And that’s why I can be the best at your company.”

Mark didn’t look up, but kept clicking the mouse.

“Alright. Thank you for coming in. I’ll contact you if you got the job.”

The interviewee just looked at him funny, then turned around and left out the door. Mark waited until the door closed, and he tore up the resume.

“Not gonna waste my time.”

He kept clicking on the mouse, looking at the scantily clad women on his screen. A small smile came across his face.

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Friday Fictioneers – Oh Life (There Must Be More)

Author’s note: I hope everyone is doing alright. I’ve been in a real big funk when it comes to writing new stuff, mostly due to the fact that my school writing has been taking up most of my time. However, I am planning on putting up a bunch of stuff over the next week as I have a mid-semester break coming up. Whether it gets posted or not, that’s a different story. But we shall see.

Also, there were some questions about last week’s story. The answer It was an allegorical story that was related to a slate of issues on college campuses in America, where men and even some women have been accused of rape. They get taken through tribunals on campus instead of through the legal/police process. It ruins their lives, and indirectly, all parties’ lives. So for those who were curious, now you know…the rest of the story. (RIP Paul Harvey)

Here’s this week’s offering from Fictioneers:

Photo Credit @ The Reclining Gentleman

Oh Life (There Must Be More) 

by Miles H. Rost

The young lady was pulled back from the railing, the man holding her back against him.
“You’re going to be fine,” he whispered, clutching the crying woman as she let all her misery out.
He didn’t plan to be there. He was just driving, and there was someone where he was just a few months ago.
He just held her close when he heard a loud bang.
He turned around, and saw the bright lights of another car bearing down upon him. She looked up and screamed.
He pushed her away, seconds before the car hit him, carrying him over the side.
She screamed in horror as she heard nothing but the sound of the car hitting the water.
She sat, screaming and shaking as the ambulances approached.

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Friday Fictioneers – With Dad

(Author’s note: Things have been getting pretty hectic around here, and things have been off kilter. I will try to add new writing on the blog, outside of Friday Fictioneers, but it will take a bit of time to get things moving again. Your patients will be well rewarded. Today’s Friday Fictioneers is here, to whet your appetite.)

 

Photo Prompt © Jennifer Prendergast

With Dad

by Miles H. Rost

“Ready to go, son?”
“Is it going to be safe?”
“We put it together, it will be.”
They each grabbed a side of the canoe and pushed it out to the lake.
“Alright, son. The canoe is there. Are you ready to get in?”
“I would if I knew where it was.”
“What? It’s right in front–”
Dad turned around, and saw the canoe was no longer there.
“Where did it go?”
“It sank.”
“Now, do you know why it sank?”
“Because we didn’t use the right sealant.”
“That’s right. That’s what we will tell Mom. Now, let’s go back to the cabin and watch the Ducks.”

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Friday Fictioneers – Playing It Safe

(Author’s Note: Hey folks! Hope you’ve been paying attention and watching things. Even in the weirdness of school, I have had time to write. You all should be able to read my latest piece, Her Last Performance. The music will really make that one pop. Otherwise, here’s this week’s Fictioneers offering! Enjoy!)

© Claire Fuller

Playing It Safe

by Miles H. Rost

“Got another one for you.”

The desk clerk looked up from his newspaper, and at Riley Martin, the ambulance driver.

“Where did you find them?”

“Park Bench, Glen Martin Park, Irish Street side.”

There have been at least four that came from there, Riley thought.

“What was their condition?”

“Paralyzed, but with tears on the face and a voice saying ‘Brenda.'”

“Got a name on him?”

“Yep. Tyrone Brandon, aged 19. Student at the local U. Where should I put him?”

“Cell 6. We’ll prepare him soon.”

The paramedic wheeled Tyrone to the cell, and closed the doors, turning the wheels.

Another guest, checking into the Heartbreak Hotel.

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Friday Fictioneers – Sweet Caroline

(Author’s note: It’s been a busy week here at Music and Fiction. 3 different stories have been posted for your perusal, and I hope you can read them all. You can read the mini-fictions The Lament of the Scribe and 5 Steps, plus the longer fiction Walking On Ice (my current personal favorite of mine.) Make sure to comment on them, as a few of these were actually created as a result of class exercises for my university courses. Besides that, please enjoy today’s creation.)

©Madison Woods

Sweet Caroline

by Miles H. Rost

We had just pulled up to the drive thru on Route 7. I was reaching for my wallet when Caroline shrieked.

“Honey! What’s wrong?”
“I can’t stand bugs! And there are two right under the drive-thru window!”

Being a valiant man, I reached over the seat to get them. In my haste to shoo the beasts away, I miscalculated my reach. I let out a “whoa!” just before my face landed in her lap. I heard a gasp, then a breath.

“My darling, if you wanted pie, you should have just said so…”

I looked up at her, and she cracked up. I can’t help but crack up now whenever she, my beautiful wife, asks if I want pie.

 

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Friday Fictioneers – Tunnel of Love

Today’s Friday Fictioneers is a simple mini-story that I came up with while on a walkabout in downtown Melbourne.

© Stephen Baum

Tunnel Of Love

by Miles H. Rost

It was called the “Tunnel of Love”.

It was said that a couple could walk through the Macquarie Station tunnel, and after coming out the other side, they would have a child 9 months later. Just like magic.

I saw it in my childhood friends, Alistaire and Ophelia. They were enemies, and both about the legend when they chased after each other that fateful June afternoon.

I saw them running towards it, and I called out to them, “Don’t go in…” And yet, they did, running all the way through.

9 months later, they were enemies no more. And they’ve been that way for 20 years now.

Here I stand today, looking at the demolishing of the station and the tunnel. The legend lives on only in those who have passed through the fabled halls. And me, the only one too chicken to do so.

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Friday Fictioneers – Valerie

For some reason, I am not sure why, this is the second week I have done a Fictioneers story with a girl’s name as the title. I guess that’s what happens when you’re in the middle of making a move. Next week’s Fictioneers story will be done from Melbourne, Australia!

copyright Kent Bonham

Valerie

by Miles H. Rost

Lollipops.

She walked up to the DJ booth that I was sitting at, and plunked a sack of lollipops next to the control board. She looked at me with those blue eyes, framed by aureolin-tinged hair, and a sly smile.

“I figured you could use these.”

I looked up at her, one eyebrow arched, giving her a querious look that could only be reserved for certain people. I looked at the flat candies on a stick and popped one in my mouth.

“Thanks, Val! You’re the best cousin around!” I beamed back with a cheesy smile

She furrowed her eyebrows at me, and stomped away, her attempt at flustering me failing miserably.

————-

^ Original Version

^ 1987 Remixed Version

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Friday Fictioneers – Nadia

(Author’s note: Hey folks! Glad you’re on board. 1.5 weeks left until I pick up sticks and head off to the land Down Under. If you are curious about the latest furor over “The Warrior Series” of stories, go ahead to the story “Unstoppable God, Invincible”. Otherwise, enjoy today’s Friday Fictioneers and be ready for new stories to come in the next week or so!)

 

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Nadia
by
Miles H. Rost

“Nadia!”
“Yes, papa?”
The 6 year old’s father walked out into the entryway.
“My child, what are you doing?”
“I’m dancing, papa!”
He started chuckling, smiling down at his little girl.
“Would you like to teach your papa to dance?”
“Of course I want you to dance!”
She put her hand in her dad’s, and showed him how to turn around. He already knew how to do so, but humored his daughter, who loved him so.
“My daughter, you will make a lot of people happy in the future.”
“I know! I will be the best dancer in the world!”

Almost 10 years later…

“…and it is…”
“A perfect 10!”