Friday Fictioneers

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The Valley Road – Friday Fictioneers

A lot of big things are happening in my life right now, but soon there will be some major changes coming to this blog and my other blog, which I rarely update and will likely be used as the sandbox for my major changes. Anyhow, here’s my story for this week, and there will be more coming down the line.

Copyright – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

The Valley Road

by Miles Rost

The old men looked out from the porch, onto the road that passed the house.

“Did you get a look at that girl in the truck”?

“Nah, did she look fine?”

“No way. She was pregnant as can be!”

“What’s the story?”

“From what I got told, she apparently had a lee-ay-son with a kid from across the tracks.”

One of the old men just shook his head.

“These kids today. They get into trouble, and have to have us bail them out. So, what’ll happen to the kid?”

“No clue. That’s the Valley Road there. Means she ain’t coming back this way no more.”

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So Far Away – Friday Fictioneers

Welcome back for another Friday Fictioneers set. If you haven’t already read the latest (and according to some, my best) Mayumi story so far, please go check out “We All Sleep Alone”

*Author’s Note: Some have been having trouble seeing the video. If you are having trouble, go to Youtube, and look up “So Far Away” by Dire Straits. You’ll get the feelin’.

copyright Jan Wayne Fields

So Far Away

by Miles Rost

Everything was ready on the table.

Danny got home from work, and expertly prepared a beautiful crown roast of lamb, with mint sauce, lightly fried potatoes, and thin-sliced green beans. All of her favorites.

He set the table with the good plates, the excellent glasses, and everything. His crowning achievement of making dinner, a big one, was complete.

He looked out the window towards the street, the patio bereft of life. He looked out the window for a long time.

It was after about 30 minutes of looking that he realized he was eating alone for the night.

His beautiful wife, his love, would not be making it home for dinner.

Ever.

 

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Friday Fictioneers – Homeward Bound

Apologies for no posts in the last two weeks. Vacation and depression do affect a person. Here’s the latest Fictioneers offering, albeit a couple days late due to birthday stuffs.

copyright Jean L. Hays

Homeward  Bound

by Miles H. Rost

“So this is where it all started?” Marina asked her grandpa.

“Yep. This is where the famous Route 66 got it’s start,” Grandpa responded, with pride.

“Not that, silly! This is where you started your journey, wasn’t it?” the child said, smiling like she was sharing a secret.

“Ah, child. This was the start of my journey. I lived in that brown building back there, and one day I decided to move west. I packed up a ’55 Bel-Air, picked up your grandma in Des Moines, and we made our way to Oregon.”

“Then I came along and brought you back here!”

“Actually, that was your mom…”

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Friday Fictioneers – Missed Opportunities

Heyo, everyone! After a wild and wooly (meaning stressed out previous) week, and a restorative weekend, here I am with the Christmas Eve version of Friday Fictioneers. Coming up soon will be a longer story from me, but until then, here’s my latest entry:

Copyright -Björn Rudberg

 Missed Opportunities

by Miles H. Rost

The adventuring party waited at the bottom of the stairs, as the scout came bolting down.

“Alright. Up at the top of the steps and about 50 feet in is an Ancient Red Dragon.”

“A RED dragon?” the Wizard said, squeaking out the color.

“We’re level 15, not level 65. That’s what Red Dragons are. No way we’re going in,” the leader of the party told them.

The lot agreed, and bypassed the stairs as they went towards the distant Swamp of Salinity.

Up the stairs, the Red Dragon opened it’s eyes and sighed.

“Why won’t people take a chance on me?” he said to himself, “I’m a lovable guy. I even have cookies! I just want people to talk with…”

A tear fell down his scales as he curled back up.

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Friday Fictioneers – The Winter Long

Hello, Fictioneer readers! I had to take a break from fictioneering last week due to the holidays, and the fact that I was not in the right state of mind to write at that time. I am back, and likely to have a few new stories out soon. But first…today’s Fictioneers story:

copyright Janet Webb

The Winter Long
by Miles Rost

The winter was the longest one that was on record. Cold temperatures kept people inside, the snow sometimes sealed them in like a tomb.

“Honey, do you think we’ll ever be able to leave?”

“Well, sweetie, look out the window.”

They walked over to their window, and looked at a tree with most of it’s leaves on, brown as they may have been.

“Those leaves have stayed on that tree all winter so far. If they can do it, we can do it.”

Honey looked back at her sweetie, smiling bashfully.

“Hold onto me, and I’ll hold on to you.”

Sweetie looked back at his honey, and enclosed his arms around her.

“This winter long, I will always be with you.”

Cold outside, but very warm inside.

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Friday Fictioneers – Manic Monday

Currently writing this on the road…in Suwon, South Korea (the capital of Gyeonggi Province). Enjoy what my mind throws up!

Copyright-Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Manic Monday

by Miles Rost

I never thought I knew of a place called hell. That is, until I found myself in a delivery job in Beverly Hills.

“You need to drop the first set of packages in the back alley behind the consignment store next to the Victoria’s Secret on Rodeo Drive, but not the Victoria’s Secret expansion across the alley,” my boss told me.

It was like he was speaking Korean to me. I looked at him sideways.

“What’s the name of the consignment store?” I asked.

“How am I supposed to know? I don’t do deliveries!”

So I went with my gut and looked for the Victoria’s Secret store. There were 5 of them within 2 blocks of Rodeo Drive. So I put them in the back alley, on a building that said “Rags to Riches”, next to the Victoria’s Secret.

I was fired the next day for incompetence. When my boss couldn’t even tell me the right place.

I think I’m going to go to the beach and punch a mime.

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Friday Fictioneers – Far Enough

Here’s this week’s submission!

 

Copyright – Jean L. Hays

Far Enough

by Miles H. Rost

“Charlie, you have gone too far.”

Doris MacInally looked out the window and shook her head at her son, Charles.

“How, Mom?” Charlie inquired.

“I remember when you were putting snowplow machinery on old Bel Air chassis.”

“Yeah?”

“Now, you’re putting a mobile oil derrick in the bed of a Ford F-250?”

“What can I say, Mom? There’s a need for more of them up here in North Dakota, so why not make them mobile?”

“Will it actually be able to stay and hold while oil goes everywhere?”

“That’s what the plastic tarp is for.”

“What plastic tarp…no. NO YOU DID NOT…”

“No one liked that tablecloth anyways.”

Doris began to chase her son across the yard, rolling pin in hand, as he giggled all the way.

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Friday Fictioneers – Forever Young

Took a break last week with some other stuff going on at work, so I am back (though a little late):

Copyright – The Reclining Gentleman

Forever Young
by Miles Rost

“Dad, was this place always filled with water?”

“No, son. This area used to be a major quarry for the local marble company.”

“Why didn’t they continue with marble here?”

“The company went out of business, son.”

“I never knew about this place, what it was.”

“That’s because it changes all the time. Everything changes after time, even you.”

“But Dad, do you think I’ll change so much to be unrecognizable?”

“You won’t be unrecognizable. People will still remember what you were, and what you are. In people’s minds, you’ll be forever young.”

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Friday Fictioneers – The Rack

Have you ever had one of those months where life just kicks you in the nuts? I’m having one of those. So, I hope this will make people feel better.

http://mariegailstratford.wordpress.com/

Copyright – Marie Gail Stratford

The Rack

I traveled far and wide to see a thing of beauty.

I looked at an old wine-rack, now dutifully repurposed as a light display at this dive of a bar. I examined in thoroughly, and saw no flaws. The liquid was resonant, the electrical construction was exquisite.

“How much for that light rack?”

“It’s not for sale. That thing is what makes us half our money.”

“How does an old wine rack do that?”

The bartender I was talking to just laughed.

“Watch.”

As the lights blinked to the music, I suddenly got the urge to buy a bottle of whiskey.

“How much for the whiskey bottle?”

“Heh. See? That’s what it does for me. Subliminal messaging.”

I only noticed that he was still speaking to me after plopping the whiskey bottle into my hand.

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Friday Fictioneers – Now Where Could It Be?

Here’s the latest!

Copyright – Dawn Q. Landau

Now Where Could It Be?

“Agatha? Did you look over in 14B?”

“Yes, I did look over in 14B. I looked in 11-15 for it.”

“How about 47?”

“You think I’m going to go to 47 on a whim?”

“Hey, if it weren’t for you going on about how great this place was, I wouldn’t have had this happen!”

“It’s not my fault you can’t even follow simple directions.”

“Doing archeology in salt flats is not my idea of a good day, and I can follow directions.”

“Then why didn’t you follow them when you put your contacts in?”

“Because I…wait…I FOUND MY CONTACT!”

“Charlie, next time, put them in right…or else I’ll slap them out permanently.”

“GAAAAH! SALT IN MY EYE!!!!”