Friday Fictioneers – The Road Not Taken

(Author’s note: With the final part of my Korean experience finally complete, I now focus on the next phase of life. This means that Music and Fiction will likely get an upgrade/update in some way. Once I get settled back in a routine, this should happen. Until then, it’s Fictioneers and other stories I plan to write. Hope you enjoy today’s offering!)


© Bjorn Rudberg

The Road Not Taken

by Miles H. Rost

“Daddy, do you ever wish you did something different?”

Paul looked down at his daughter, 9 years old and ever inquisitive.

“There are one or two things, sweetie. But, then you wouldn’t be here. That’s not a wish I would make.”

She put her arms around his waist, and hugged tightly.

“Do you regret losing your arm?”

He looked down at his sweetie, and sadly smiled.

“My arm saved 4 men in Iraq, sweetie. I would not trade that, no.”

Paul swept his arm under her and picked her up.

“Honey, my arm brought me home. No regrets.”

“I love you, Daddy!”



Friday Fictioneers – In Your Eyes

(Author’s note: The last couple weeks have been hell. I’m now at a point where I can do a lot more with my time, and hopefully will be able to update a lot more and answer things. Next week, I should be on time with my writing…depending on whether I’ll be writing on a plane or not. Otherwise, enjoy today’s Valentine’s Day writing piece!)


© Dale Rogerson

In Your Eyes

by Miles H. Rost

His plane touched down at 4:30.

By 6:00, he was gazing into the eyes of someone he waited years to see.

“I ran.”

“But you grew since you’ve been gone.”

“I grew up, but for what? We could have been married by now”

She looked away, but returned to his gaze.

“But you wouldn’t be you now. And you, now, are the one I choose.”

He kept gazing into the brown and green pools of her eyes. Reading.

“It’s time.”

“To what?”

“For me to make up for lost time.”

She blushed, still holding her gaze.

“It’s snowing. Come, let’s get warm.”




Friday Fictioneers – King Of Wishful Thinking

(Author’s note: Late on the story tonight. In the middle of cleaning the apartment for the next tenant, and getting all my stuff ready to move out. I hope to have a bit more time coming up to get things done, and to do more with the blog. 

My time in Korea is ending. I will have a celebration post coming up, along with a State of the Blog very soon…likely while waiting for my flight in 2 weeks. Anyhow, enjoy today’s fictioneers.)


© J.S. Brand

King Of Wishful Thinking

by Miles H. Rost

“What would you do with $10,000,000?”

The longtime fisherman dusted off his hands, and smiled.

“I’d fix this boat up properly, and then take it on a world tour.”

Laughs bubbled from the kids that sat on the dock, watching the old man.

“Your boat won’t go. Hasn’t for two years,” one of the snotty ones remarked.

Henry looked down.

“Sometimes gotta look at reality before experiencing it.”

The kids were silent, as Henry scraped more paint off the keel.

“Can’t work on a boat when your wife is sick, right? King of wishful thinking, y’know.”

They got up and left.


Friday Fictioneers – (I Wanna) Kiss The Bride

(No notes, just write!)


© Roger Bultot

(I Wanna) Kiss The Bride

by Miles H. Rost

“Who’s idea was it to make this pathway of barbecue nets?”

Mandy’s red, wrinkled finger pointed at the mosquito nets that lined the aisle.

“It’s to prevent all the mosquitos–”

“I don’t care. Take them down.”

“But, Miss–”

“I didn’t pay 34 thousand dollars for mosquito nets. This wedding will go net free!”

The workers started taking down the nets, with one muttering how it would be nice if the wedding went “nut free”.

Mandy looked around, and shook her head.

“My daughter is getting the wedding I didn’t. It has to go perfectly.”

She looked at a net, and cried.


Friday Fictioneers – Sweet Dreams

(Author’s note: Still in a splint. Things acting up, but I’ll be fine. 84 calendar days until I end my working career in Korea. As for today’s fictioneers, I originally was going to go with “Stuck In A Closet With Vanna White”, but I felt like something…more. Enjoy today’s fictioneers! )


© R.W.F.

Sweet Dreams


by Miles H. Rost


Desiree and Mike had been picked by lottery to end up in the closet. Mike was fully sober, but had been intoxicated by something much stronger than booze.

And he could not see anything.

“Mike…keep going.”

Hot and heavy it was, heightened by Air Supply on the portable radio beside them.

“Desi, my finger…it’s stuck.”

Everything stopped, except for the guitars in the song.

“That’s my bra, Mike. Take it off.”

Another moment of slight movement, and a sudden shift of things crashed down, including a clang.


She felt around, finding a clock beside Mike’s head.


Friday Fictioneers – Mama Can’t Buy You Love

(Author’s notes: Learning new stuff coming up. We’ll see what happens! Here’s today’s fictioneers!)


© Sarah Ann Hall

Mama Can’t Buy You Love

by Miles H. Rost

“Why are we in a bowl shop?” Harley asked.

“Mom told me to pick something, and she’ll buy it,” Clarissa replied.

“But, sweetheart, whenever she buys you something, you’re depressed for weeks.”

“It makes me happy.”

“Clarissa, it doesn’t. Your mom doesn’t want you happy. She wants you obedient.”

“Then what do you propose, Harley?”

“Why not let me make you happy?”

“How would you make me happy? Can you buy me things?”

“No, but instead you’ll have a home to call your own. And a husband who loves you.”

“A what…?”

“Would you marry me?”

Clarissa dropped the bowl.


Friday Fictioneers – Glad It Was You

(Author’s note: So, if you’re on Facebook, you probably found out this past week. But for those who are not, I’ve made the decision (with some help from the Lord, and a bunch of preschool children) to go back home to the USA for a time. I am not sure how long it’ll be, but it should be enough. And I’m in a good place to go and do things. I’ll keep everyone abreast, but it is likely I will be landing on American soil around March 1st.

Time for some fictioneers!)


© Sandra Crook

Glad It Was You

by Miles H. Rost

The tree bled from the hole the fireworks made.

That’s what Marty remembered, as it happened 5 years past. And here he was, again, looking up. He turned as he heard footsteps.

“So after all this time, you’re back here again,” Katrina said. A redhead, she didn’t look any older than before.

“Not much further from where I began, eh?”

She looked up at the tree.


“We set off fireworks. One of them landed there, on that hole.”

“That hole hadn’t closed up until last week, when you arrived.”

“Guess it needed both of us.”

“I’m glad,” she said, warmly.