Friday Fictioneers – Angel In Disguise

(Author’s note: None. It’s Wednesday. Enjoy!)

cloister-roger-b

© Roger Bultot

Angel In Disguise

by Miles H. Rost

Tom looked over the large lawn on the British estate that he stayed at. He was about to turn around when he felt soft, silky hands wrap around his shoulders.

“Tomas, come back to me.”
“But I’m right here.”
“For good.”
“I want to, but…”
“But what?”

She spun him around and pressed herself upon him.

“I need to decide, Sandra. Nashville or you.”
“Why not both? You work for my dad’s business, then work with Nashville remote?”

She made sense. Her Spanish accent added another level to that sense.

“You’re an angel, Sandra.”
“In disguise, non?”

He enveloped her.

RIP Earl Thomas Conley (1941-2019)

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Friday Fictioneers – My Old Yellow Car

(Author’s note: And here we are, back again for another Friday Fictioneers. I hope to have some new non-micro-fiction material up soon. Jobs that wear out your mind, however, don’t seem to work very well with keeping up a writing schedule. No longer! I have a secret weapon that will help. So, enjoy today’s missive!)

teds-car-in-the-woods

© Ted Strutz

My Old Yellow Car

by Miles H. Rost

The garage door opened and gasps went up to the heavens.

“What did you do, Dad?”
“I bought an old, rusted and busted ’68 Charger R/T. I figured you and I could work on it.”

The 10-year old looked up, crinkling his nose.

“Couldn’t we have done this with a computer?”
“Do you want to drive when you’re 16?”
“Yeah…”
“This car is yours once it’s fully built.”

His son’s eyes lit up. Then they fell.

“But we don’t have money for parts.”

Dad smiled, and looked around the garage.

“$10 a week. Save up enough, I’ll buy an extra part for free.”

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Friday Fictioneers – It’s In The Way That You Use It

(Author’s note: I will be moving soon. The house I’m in will be sold, and I’ll be moving to another place in another part of town. It’ll be nice, a little closer to work, a little closer to everything. It’ll also be more stable, which means I’ll be able to do more, such as working on this script that I’ve put off for nearly 3 years. Here’s to hoping it works! Anyhow, here’s today’s fictioneers)

rr-tracks-at-harpers-ferryc

© Dawn W. Miller

It’s In The Way That You Use It

by Miles H. Rost

We took the train down to Southern California. It was one of the last rides I would take with my grandpa.

“Sonny, I want you to have something.”

I looked up at him, and smiled. He gave me a photo.

“When I leave, I want you to look at this. Especially when you feel down.”
“But Grandpa, you’ll always be around.”
“Not always, Sonny.”
“If I have this picture, you’ll always be there.”

He just smiled.

That was 20 years ago. He died shortly after that. But I always have him with me, on the neck of my guitar on stage.

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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!)

jennifer-pendergast5

© 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 – One Day To Fly

(Author’s Note: I’d like to give a shout out to Jason E. Gillikin, a good friend of mine who I have had the pleasure of contacting and being in contact with for many years. We both grew in our writing, and he is the Editor in Chief of Caffeinated Press, an anthology publisher based out of Grand Rapids, Michigan. He has helped me, in many ways, to get back to writing the way it should be. If you get a chance, you should visit his website: http://www.jegillikin.org/ )

© Piya Singh

One Day To Fly

by Miles H. Rost

Leo shot up in his bed.

Never one to dally, he reached over to the table and grabbed a charcoal pencil and his paper, and started to sketch.

A smooth nose, sleek lines jutting back from the rounded nose. A bump on the top towards the front, and a long tubular body. Each part of the drawing called upon the memory of his dream, the horror and awe of what he imagined.

Two ellipses, flattened, bisected the main body, rounding on either side, but thin enough to look like the blade of a knife.

The vision of da Vinci was masterful.

Friday Fictioneers – Old Coal Town

(Author’s note: Nothing. I have stuff going on that’s taking up a lot of time. Here’s our stuff.)

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Old Coal Town

by Miles H. Rost

Abandoned buildings.

The smells of dust, must, and nature filled my nose as I looked at the back of the old broken building. It was a great smell, and something I love coming back to.

Coming back to this place, getting away from the big city, it’s incredible.

And being able to restore something old is a great chance to help the people of the town my father destroyed.

His actions killed the coal town aspect of this town, but I am hoping the fortunes I made in tech will allow this town to become great.

Time to give back what they gave me. Love.

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!”

“Music And Fiction” State Of The Blog 2015

Hey folks. It’s Miles here! I have decided to give an update to everyone who reads my blog and is a constant watcher of all things “musically fictitious”.

I don’t plan to get long winded about things, but some updates need to be done so that people have the ability to see what all is happening.

Most of you have seen this blog increase from a small little production to something a slight bit larger. The folks from Friday Fictioneers come by whenever there’s a fictioneers post up and running, and others stop by as supporters of the blog. This is incredible, and is the first step to great things.

However, this blog can be and will become more. As most of you know, I have recently turned my Twitter account back on, and you can find me posting there sometimes. Also, I have a Facebook “page” of my own, which anyone can come to and like without worry.

The goal of these things, among others, is to get my blog wired up enough so that I can take it full bore after my time in Korea is finished.

As far as regular updates on the blog, with new material, most of it will be put forth as normal. The biggest problem I have at this time is that my job gets in the way of my writing. One big reason why people did not see an update from me since the last Fictioneers post in February, it was due to the fact that the beginning of the school year happened here in Korea. With the changes in my class schedules and having to plan and re-plan for all the different things that needed to get done, I didn’t get much time to do my writing as my mind was busy with preparing things. Now that I have a lay of the land with my classes for what I assume will be the next 3 months, I should not have to worry.

Here’s what the future is going to hold:

1) Increased posting to at least twice a week by August, including fictioneers. Maybe another group will be joined, depending.

2) More communication through Facebook and Twitter, with more time spent in network with authors, writers, and other folks around the world.

3) Re-issuance of archived/older stories on my Facebook Author’s page. Potentially also done over Twitter as well.

4) Hopefully a more consistent schedule will bring in more consistent readers. And more music.

As it stands, I have very high hopes coming down the pike for this blog and other projects. The biggest issue I am going to be facing in the next few months is time, specifically bouncing between my current job and applying for visas and other stuff. Once I finish my job here in late may, and get set up in Australia in July, I should have a lot more time to spend on really making this great WordPress blog shine.

There will be more Music and Fiction to go around in the next 12 months. Be ready for some action! G’night for now,  and here’s one of my favorite Smooth Jazz artists to allow you to think and create. Enjoy Peter White!

Hedging Your Bets – Friday Fictioneers

Hey there, everyone. Last week was a killer for me, on many fronts. I couldn’t do half of what I wanted to do. The good news is that I will have time this week to do some major writing, so keep up on it. Here’s today’s fiction:

copyright Melanie Greenwood

Hedging Your Bets

by Miles Rost

“I just put in my notice.”

Mark Jackson had a look on his face that was bliss. His cube-mate, Jesse Blaylock, wasn’t so sure.

“So, you’re going to quit without an exit plan?”

“Absolutely not. I have that plan. I’m going to take the first job that I get, and while I work at that one, I’ll work on my passion.”

Jesse’s eye went up at that.

“And what if you don’t find a job?”

“That’s the beauty of it. They’re always looking for someone. I will do any job, just as long as I don’t have to work at this place.”

“You, sir, have faith. If I don’t get to see you go today, here’s to hoping the maze don’t get ya.”

 

Must I Always Remember

Must I Always Remember
by Miles Rost

Even with success, the specter of loss hung around his head like a bad cold.

Patrick Dumont was not an unhappy man, by any means. He was charming with all the folks, a man of character and integrity, and even fairly successful with his new business ventures. In all, he should be celebrating his life in great ways.

Yet, alone in his apartment, his head between his knees, he wasn’t even celebrating.

It started earlier in the day. Looking through his finance books, he knew that everything was going alright and that there were not going to be problems for the next couple months. But that nagging feeling was there, telling him “Hey, you’re finances are not as stable as they should be.”

As the day wore on, he got more and more worried. As the worries built, the memories of old days came flooding forth like a raging flood breaching an earthen dam. The more the worries piled on top, the more depressed he became. He took off from work early, and just went straight home.

As he sat in that apartment, head between knees and tears falling down his face, he remembered the many times of worry he had in the past. He heard the words of people telling him that if he didn’t plan for his future, he’d have nothing. That if he wasn’t paying attention, everything would fall around him.

He remembered his family as it came apart in pieces, like a car losing it’s parts as it drove along. His family splitting apart from divorce, his father becoming despondent after losing his job, his younger brother jumping off a high bridge to end his life after getting a failing score on his final test. He even remembered his own loss of the first business he started, a hedge clipping business.

Then there was Hannah. The girl that gave him so much passion, and so much life. He wanted to keep her in his heart always, always having that chance of being able to see her again. That is, until he heard the phone call.

“Patrick, I’m pregnant.”
“Who’s the father?”
“I’m….not sure.”

He screamed out, cried, and put himself into fits while dealing with all of these things that came forth from his head. For 4 straight hours, he was in agony. Four hours of crying, sobbing, screaming into his sweatshirt. It seemed as though he would be crying for many more hours.

Suddenly, he sat up. He dried his eyes, and looked around. He blinked a few times, looking at the fluorescent lights reflecting from the outside window into his apartment, casting glow over shadows. His eyes, even in the dark, cleared up.

“I have no need to remember this.”

His words had steel behind them. It was the sound of determination. Whatever he had just went through was done, and he finally stood up. He smiled, as he put his jacket on.

He was free to enjoy life again. He was free from his pain, his grief, and that feeling of holding onto something.

It was time…for a beer.