Friday Fictioneers – Rush Hour

(Author’s Note: I have this strange feeling that I’m about to get blindsided with something at work, and things are in a lot of flux right now. I’ll be continuing at this level until, likely, February. To which I’ll be packing up and on the way back to the States. So I’ll try to keep up. Just beware. Here’s today’s fictioneers!)

lampost-s-pier-sandra-crook

© Sandra Crook

Rush Hour

by Miles H. Rost

Preston’s first date in 12 years shouldn’t have ended up like this: Stuck on the interstate in a traffic jam.

He also didn’t expect his date to be flushed and shaking.

“Melanie, what’s going on now?”

“I…can’t hold on much longer.”

Preston’s eyes nervously looked over.

“You gotta hold on! Grrrrrr…”

He looked to his right. Clearance.

He gunned the engine and sped past a light pole. Fingers and horns went everywhere.

Minutes later, he finally pulled up to a building. He quickly got out and opened the door for Melanie.

She bounced out, tabby cat latched to her arm.

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Friday Fictioneers – Bend Me Shape Me

(Author’s Note: I’ll be celebrating my 37th year of completed existence in a few days. This is how I feel right now!)

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©Sandra Crook

Bend Me Shape Me

by Miles H. Rost

Mark walked into the chiropractor’s office. The doc smiled at him, as he closed the door.

“How can we help you today?”

“Doctor, I think my back is starting to go. I keep waking up and not being able to get out of bed.”

“I think I got just the thing. It’ll bend you, shape you, do anything you want of it.”

They walked to the back room, where there was a bed with no sides. It looked like the shape of an I.

“What’s this?”

“It’s something new I came up with. It stretches you in different ways. I call it the I-rack!”

Mark ran out the door, never to return.

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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.”

Friday Fictioneers – (240 and) 242

(Author’s note: I’ve been a bit busy with classes and other things, but I hope to get myself back to posting twice a week soon. Otherwise, here’s today’s Fictioneers.)

© Sean Fallon

240 and 242

by Miles H. Rost

“Alright, Ma’am. What happened here?”

“Frankenstein just walked in, and suddenly I started getting hit in the face.”

The two officers blinked.

“And what did you do?”

“I did the only thing I could do, I reached for the jar, put my hand in, and started to throw. One right after another.”

“Did he do anything?”

“He started moving back, away from me, and that’s when it got lodged in his ear.”

“Then what?”

“I tased him.”

The officers shook their heads, and walked over to the unconscious Frankenstein.

“Sir?”

Frankenstein growled.

“We’re charging you with battery.”

“Grrrrrrrnnnnn.”

(Dig that funky bass! Abe Laboriel, everyone!)

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!!!!”

Friday Fictioneers: Break It To Me Gently

It’s Friday. That means Friday Fictioneers for this time period while I study and get things in order. Enjoy today’s selection!

fleeting-copyright-indira-mukherjee

copyright-Indira byway of Scott Vanatter

Break It To Me Gently

by Miles Rost

The truck whizzed down the street, blaring it’s horn and trying to get people out of it’s way.

“Breeeeeak iiiiiiit….to me gentlyyyyyyy.”

“Tommy, stop singing right now!”

“Why? I thought you liked this song.”

“Yes, the way Juice Newton sang it. But not when you, Mr. Firefighter of the year, attempt to kill it.”

“It’s my way of dealing with stress.”

“Like your job?”

“We’re going to put out a fire at a guitar factory, why not make it musical?”

The driver facepalmed in his mind, as he continued to race down the highway.