Friday Fictioneers – Brick House

(Author’s note: Had to take last week off again, due to some unfortunate pain related to my exercise regimen. I’m better now. And while I’m on new business, there’s a new watcher to the board. His name is H.K., and he’s a great guy with a sense of humor. He’s someone who is interested in what Music and Fiction is all about. H.K., welcome aboard! Here’s today’s fictioneers…)

stone-house

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Brick House

by Miles H. Rost

His foot hooked on a root, and he fell flat on his face into a peat bog.

Michael ignored the pain and kept running.

He had to get away.

His girlfriend Nadine had gone nuts.

For the first 3 months, their relationship was hands off and very slow-going. Without warning, she jumped on him and tried to perform a tonsillectomy with her tongue.

Seeing the old brick garage, he ran in and barred the door. He could hide out there.

*click*

Light came on behind him. He turned around.

“Oh, Michael…”

It was the end. He couldn’t run from her lust.

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Friday Fictioneers – You Ain’t Seen Nothin’ Yet

Merry Christmas from Music and Fiction. More stories to come in the next couple weeks!

 

© Scott VanNatter

You Ain’t Seen Nothin’ Yet

by Miles H. Rost

“Now, Bobsie, stay out of the tree.”

My cat, the little furchild named Bobsie, looked at me with a blank state, before finally meowing. I took that to be a sign of acceptance, as I started wrapping my gifts.

I didn’t want a repeat of last year’s tree debacle, so I kept one eye on elusive Bobsie and one of my tape dispenser.

Things went swimmingly after that, until I finished with the last present, and threw the empty wrapping paper tube to the side.

I watched Bobsie leap from the table, catch the tube in mid-air, then cannonball straight into the tree. Half of the ornaments dropped, one or two cracking.

He found his way into the tree, and I am the one getting in trouble for it with my girlfriend, who just arrived home.

Friday Fictioneers – Clubbing

Author’s note – Trying my best to do more than just fictioneers stuff on here, but kinda stuck dealing with pre-grad studies “crunk”. Hope to be back in form next week.

© Sandra Crook

The Club At The End Of The Street

by Miles H. Rost

The bubble popped in Carlotta’s mouth.

“So, where are we going?”

“I found a little place. In fact, look down the street. See the man holding a cigar?”

“Yeah, I see him.”

“We’re gonna go clubbing tonight.”

She looked at her boyfriend and smiled. Finally, doing something she wanted to do. She hopped up and down as they walked down the small “street”. They finally reached the man with the cigar. He sneered.

“What’s the password?”

Club a baby seal for a better deal,” her boyfriend replied.

“Great! Have fun!”

Cigar man handed her boyfriend a hunk of wood.

“Whatcha gonna do with that?” she asked.

“I did say we’d go ‘clubbing’,” he said, as he bopped her over the head.