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. ^_-)

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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