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 – Ice

(Author’s note: Was gone last week, due to issues related to work. I hope to be a bit more consistent when I finally get myself into my own place again, instead of having to drive 45 minutes from work to get home. Anyhow, here’s special music to go along with today’s Fictioneers…)

dinner-table-prior

© Prior House

Ice

by Miles H. Rost

Another morning, another bucket of ice.

It didn’t matter what happened, Juanita always had to bring a bucket of ice upstairs to her employer’s chambers.

She knocked twice. That usually woke him up.

After a minute, she opened the door to his cavernous bedroom, overlooking the Pacific Ocean. She brought the ice over to the bed, and pulled the comforter off him.

A sea of black, purple, and blue caused her to gasp.

She reached down, trying to wake him up. The moment her fingers hit his skin, she recoiled.

He was as cold as the ice she brought in.

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Friday Fictioneers – Set Me In Motion

(Author’s Note: Currently working on my summer plans, and it’s going to be quite interesting come August. Here’s today’s fictioneers, and if you know the title/song, then you know why I used it.)

 

charred-toys

© Karuna

Set Me In Motion

by Miles H. Rost

Sarah Jeon was in tears.

Her family home in rural Kentucky had burned down. It spread too fast for her to get the two small teddy bears that were her last connection to her birth mom in Korea.

While firemen hosed down the hollow house, one walked over from the remains of her bedroom, carrying something in a sheet.

“Little lady,” the 6-foot-5 firefighter boomed, as he kneeled down to look at the 8 year old, “This little one was looking for you.”

He opened the sheet, her bear only singed

“Kimchi!” she cried.

She hugged and cried into his shoulder.

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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 – Flowers Never Bend With The Rainfall

(Author’s Note: Things are getting busy at work. It’s starting to go very strange, so I am going to do what I can to get ahead of things. However, I can’t say much more than that. Here we go, it’s Fictioneers day!)

 

© Ted Strutz

Flowers Never Bend With The Rainfall

by Miles H. Rost

“Charlie, what the heck are you doing?”

“I’m putting a bunch of flowers out to line my yard. I want to make sure that people know I’m a man of culture.”

“But look at what those flowers are in!”

“What’s the problem, Virgil? They’re commodes! I’m doing my part to recycle!”

“Yeah, but it looks so cheap. What will people think when they drive by?”

“They’ll think that I’m resourceful and reusing the things that people throw away!”

“No, people will think your flowers are representative of you. Full of crap.”

“You mean like the stuff that fell down the side of your hill?”

“…you shut up.”