Friday Fictioneers – Spring Growth

(Author’s note: None. Enjoy the Fictioneers!)

© Brenda Cox

Spring Growth

by Miles H. Rost

Xi Lin looked at the banks of the lake, burnt trees sticking up like used matchsticks.

She knew better, however. Being a scholar of the trees in both China and America, it helped her understand exactly what was going on. While the Camp Fire was massive, and wiped out so much acreage, she knew that there was growth within.

She peered down at herself and clutched her hands. The lesson of trees also applied to people who burned with passion, and yet had spent the fuel of a relationship.

She was growing as well, a single spring growth hidden within.

Go ahead, click the picture. See what else is out there!

Friday Fictioneers – “Beginnings”

(Author’s note: January was a very busy month. Exceptionally busy. Things are really picking up steam. Therefore, here’s today’s fictioneers!)

© Roger Bultot

Beginnings

by Miles H. Rost

“Su-Yeon Noona*!”

Paul slowed himself down as he approached the bench. Su-Yeon, raven hair and all, turned his way.

“Paul? What’s going on?”
“I just saw you pass by, and wanted to talk quickly!”
“What’s going on?”

He sat down, catching his breath. The British expat needed to exercise more.

“Valentine’s day is coming up. And I’d like to take you out for a date.”

Su-Yeon’s eyes got wide, then narrowed as she grinned.

“So you want me to leave my title of noona, soona?”

Paul blinked.

Gears turned.

He laughed.

Blush appeared.

“Oh stop it, you!”

Su-Yeon just chuckled.

* – “Noona” is Korean to denote a woman who is older than a man, but is familiar to them (regardless of biology). Commonly used among younger college-aged males for the upperclass college-aged women.

Oh come on, you know you wanna join.

Friday Fictioneers – Sound Of Silence

(Author’s Note: One of the primary reasons I haven’t written here in the last little bit has been because I’ve been involved in National Novel Writing Month. I have been spending a lot of energy on writing 50,000 words, in the hopes that I can not only do it, but maybe surpass it and get it into editing (the hard part). I’m inspired, funny enough, by Val McDearmid. She is a good Scottish writer who has had some of her work turned into streaming programs (Britbox’s “Karen Pirie” is the latest). So, I am working my hardest. But, I decided to take some time out today and write here. So here’s today’s work.)

Sound Of Silence

by Miles H. Rost

Marie sat in her chair, working on the same loop of crochet that she’d been working on for the last minute.

Her daughter, Margaret, sat by her with her hand on her knee.

Marie put down her crochet and looked into Margaret’s eyes.

“You don’t know what it’s like. To do something, then forget you already did it.”

“Oh, Mom…”

Marie smiled sadly, and put her hand on Margaret’s head.

“Time to get back to my crochet work.”

Margaret looked up as her mother picked up her project and started on the same loop, yet again.

Her heart shattered completely.

Go ahead. Click the frog. You know you wanna.

Friday Fictioneers – Auf Immer Und Ewig

(Author’s note: I was off last week as it was my birthday week. I had a lot of things to do, so I got to them. Now that things are starting to calm down, I can get back to more regular writing. Keep an eye on this website for possibly more longer-form stories. Otherwise, here’s today’s fictioneers… Note: The song is very important. Listen and enjoy.)

© Bradley Harris

Auf Immer Und Ewig (Forever and Ever)

by Miles H. Rost

A craving that could never be sated.

Nick gazed out towards the horizon, passing a glance over the ocean as though it wasn’t there.

Every month, he’d come to that very spot, and look out. It was a therapy, his father would say, a way to heal from the scars of the past.

It wasn’t.

“I always go there,” he said to his best friend one day, “because I want to go back. I left her back there, and I want to be with her just once more.”

It was all he would say about his tour back in Vietnam.

Click the Link to See other writers like me!

Friday Fictioneers – Dragonfly

(author’s note: Well well well! Lookie what we have here! One of my pictures! Can’t wait to see what the stories prompt up! Here we go.)

© Me!

Dragonfly

by Miles H. Rost

The names announced. The hats thrown. All that was left were the people as they gathered and started leaving.

Outside of the main auditorium, Quan looked up at the sky as his mother and father were chatting with another group of parents. As they finished, they walked back over to him.

“We’re proud of you, Quan.”

“You made salutatorian, that’s a pretty big honor.”

Quan sighed, as his parents looked at each other, puzzled.

“I could have done better.”

His dad, a former Tianamen Square protester, squared him up.

“Dragonfly, you did the best, and we’re proud. Don’t think otherwise.”

Friday Fictioneers – Midnight Pretenders

(Author’s note: The last time I wrote, I had just started the process of moving to a new place. Happy enough, I’m moved in and doing well. Changed up a bunch of things, and I feel good about prospects down the line. Especially the freedom of being able to write while looking at an interesting suburban neighborhood. Anyhow, here’s an unusual take on today’s Friday Fictioneers entry…)


© Jennifer Pendergast

Midnight Pretenders

by Miles H. Rost

“Atsuko, you’ve never made Christmas cookies before?”

Atsuko Inori flushed, her secret exposed.

“Well, we have eggs, flour, sugar. Do we have vanilla?”

“Vanilla? No vanilla,” she said, “Cannot get from big supa.”

Stephano opened her refrigerator, and smiled.

“You have lemons. Lemons make real good Christmas cookies.”

She moved her hips slightly, almost dancing.

Stephano looked up, catching her.

“You wanted to make lemon cookies, didn’t you?”

“I like lemons. My tongue dances, just like me, when I eat.”

Stephano stifled a chuckle, bringing down bowls from their cupboard.

“Well, let’s not waste time. Anytime you dance, I’m happy.”

Friday Fictioneers – Still The One

(Author’s note: Moving to a new location on Friday. Getting this out while I have a chance. Enjoy!)

© C.E. Ayr

Still The One

by Miles H. Rost

Martin stared out at the oil platforms of the Pacific, the sand slowly working its way around his toes, when she sidled up.

“It’s been 30 years, you know,” she said.

“I’ve thought a lot about it. When did you know that we were gonna be together?”

Claire ran her fingers through her long blondish-grey hair, capturing her thoughts.

“Probably sophomore year, when you snapped my bra in math class.”

Martin crinkled his face at that.

“Not my best moment, dear.”

“Well, not after I slugged you. At least I took care of you after.”

“And have been. For 30 years.”

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.

Want to see more stories like mine? Click the frog!

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. ^_-)