Friday Fictioneers – Lady

(Author’s note: A lot of life stuff happened over the last couple weeks. I am hoping to have a Fictioneers next week as well, and maybe even a unique story-ette. However, here’s today’s fictioneers!)

Lady

by Miles H. Rost

When your mind is full, sometimes you just have to sit on a toilet, and El knew this well.

His creative process took him to many places, but sometimes, the bathroom was where he needed to be.

He thought about Brenda, his beautiful wife of four years. He thought about how he looked forward to her days. The ideas flowed onto the paper, as he sat on the throne.

He poured out all that he had been feeling since he married her, even when he was gone with his band. He wanted to be home, and this was his ticket.

El and Brenda. You know him better as Lionel Richie.

Here’s the link to the seemingly tall tale of writing “Lady” on the commode.

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Friday Fictioneers – Inside A Dream

(Author’s note: I turn 41 tomorrow. There’s a lot going on. Let’s just get to it.)

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (The BlogMom!)

Inside A Dream

by Miles H. Rost

Delia’s eyes grew wide at the organizer on her daddy’s desk.

“Daddy, can I have paper clip?”

Her father looked down and smiled. His beautiful 6 year old came to work with him, due to inservice days at school. He sat down and lifted her onto his lap, and plucked a silver paper clip out.

Delia worked her fingers, bending, unbending; like lightning she moved. Daddy just closed his eyes, taking the quick break that he was hoping for.

“I’m done!”

He opened his eyes, and looked down at Delia, who had made a house out of one clip.

“How Beautiful!”

Friday Fictioneers – Our Lips Are Sealed

(Author’s note: One of the perils of my work from home job is that I get slammed with work. With that, the election stuff going on (which I have been largely happy to avoid), and 3 cases at work that are massive and had big benchmarks that needed to be met, I became very exhausted.

Anyhow, I am back and raring to go with a new Fictioneers. Please enjoy, like, subscribe, and tell your friends!)

© Sarah (not Harry) Potter

Our Lips Are Sealed

by Miles H. Rost

“Quick, Janey! Make sure no one sees you.”

Jane zipped from tree to tree, attempting to hide the best she could in broad daylight. Approaching Terry’s house, she made a mad dash from the last tree toward a waiting bush.

“If you wanted to see my son, Jane,” the voice of Mr. Hall bellowed down from the room, “you could just come up the front steps.”

“Sorry, Mr. Hall,” she seemed to mutter.

“He’s waiting inside for you. No hanky panky, though.”

Jane’s face turned cherry, as she quickly ran to the door.

“My lips are sealed” he called out.

(Jane’s the Rhythm Guitarist with the short dark hair. ^_-)

Friday Fictioneers – I’ll Wait

(Author’s note: A lot of my delays between weeks has usually been due to either busyness or other items. I’m hoping things will get better, but until at least November, it likely will not. I’ll do the best I can, though. Here’s today’s offering!)

© Sandra Crook

I’ll Wait

by Miles H. Rost

Fabrizio grimaced as he started cleaning the remains of Hurricane Belinda.

A large storm, she threw the nests of seaweed up in front of his restaurant. He knew if he didn’t get it done, it’d stink up the neighborhood.

“Fabrizio! Where have you been?” she called out, Fabrizio jumping at her voice.
“I need to clean this up. I need to open so I can help people.”
“But what about our promised night out?”
“Do you want to help me clean this up in your Chuta Gabrola?”

Marina’s eyes grew wide, as his suggestion sunk in.

“I’ll wait.”
“Thought so.”

RIP Eddie Van Halen (1955-2020)

Friday Fictioneers – Postcards from Paris

(Author’s note: The subject of today’s writing seemed a bit obvious, so I figured I’d go with an obvious choice for music and theme. Enjoy!)

after

© C.E. Ayr

Postcards from Paris

by Miles H. Rost

Percy, the great lawyer, expert toastmaster, had no words.

He peered across the city from his temporary office. He had very little time to see the “City of Love”, with a merger that was looming over him. Once it completed, he sat back and took a breath.

He opened his briefcase and pulled out another folder. Looking through the paperwork, he sighed. He glanced at the Eiffel Tower, then at the Arc du Triomphe, and finally pushed the paperwork into the auto shredder.

He pulled out his phone and hit 1.

“Honey, Merger’s done. Set up the counseling appointment. I’m there. ”

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Friday Fictioneers – Lost In Your Eyes

(Author’s note: Everytime I post, I keep apologizing for not posting more. I really don’t have an excuse this month. I celebrated my 40th birthday, had some great things happen, and may have some more soon. I just haven’t been keeping active in writing. The Wednesday writing sessions are usually where I get my writing, then I don’t do much more for the week. I am hoping to change this, but it’s going to take some monumental work to do so.

Until then, here’s this week’s fictioneers:) 

dales-ice-rink-1

© Dale Rogerson

Lost In Your Eyes

by Miles H. Rost

Cherry thought she was going to fly off.

White-knuckling her boyfriend’s love handles, she tried moving with the curve of the speeding snowmachine.

Brandon just entered the snowmobile path that circled the playground, a roundabout for the machines, and roared up. He sped into each turn until reaching the beginning again, then did a quick donut, facing where he came from.

He looked behind him, staring deep into Cherry’s deep jade eyes.

Her eyes crinkled, an obvious smile on her face.

He revved up the snowmachine, and tore around the circle once more before rocketing down the snow lane.

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Friday Fictioneers – Still Losing You

(Author’s note: The month of November was not very kind, creativewise. A good portion of my brains had to be put to use at work. The rewards will be seen eventually, but it meant my online writing ended up sacrificed. Hopefully this will be a return to more weekly and sooner endeavours. Otherwise, enjoy today’s offering!)

asian-bus

© Fatima Fakier Deria

Still Losing You

by Miles H. Rost

“O-bun!”
“Kamsahabnida!”

Percy looked down at the phone, as the bus driver went back into Gwangju’s main bus terminal.

He told Caitlin that she had one week to decide: Go to Australia with him, or stay in Korea. He looked to the door of the bus gate, hoping to see her sandy hair peek out.

Deep in his heart, he knew.

He picked up his bags and boarded the bus. Seat 15, so he could see if she would board as well.

As the bus backed out, tears filled his eyes.

As it passed Gwangju’s city limits, he finally broke down.

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Friday Fictioneers – On Every Street

(Author’s note: Getting there. Enjoy!)

ssi-lights-of-jerusalem

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

On Every Street

by Miles H. Rost

I turned down what used to be a busy college street, one that was full of bars, chicken shops, all the places a student in Korea would go.

I looked at how transformed it was. Gone were the karaoke houses, the pizza shops. Now it was condos, small boutiques, and a grown-up veneer.

Each place I remembered seeing Soong-Mi, gone.

Each memory of her smiling face: fading.

She went her way, I went mine. To meet one last time.

I laid a rose at her memorial, a cross on a corner. It’s her face I look for…on every street.

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Friday Fictioneers – Only The Young

(Author’s note: I’ve been a year at my job now. I am quite pleased. Celebrate with me in the Fictioneers!)

pastedgraphic-9

©J. Hardy Carroll

Only The Young

by Miles H. Rost

Bradley turned nine today.

The party was spectacular. His friends played in the yard, ate hot dogs and burgers, devoured cake like it was nothing.

After it was all done, he sat by my side, watching his favorite evening TV show, Tour of Duty. 

“Daddy, will I ever have to go to war?”

I looked down at him, my eyes remembering the days when I asked that question.

“Not unless you want to.”
“Are you sure?”
“They don’t force you to go anymore. Not like when I was 18.”

He curled up next to me, as we silently finished the show.

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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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