Friday Fictioneers – Let Love Be The Leader

(Author’s Note: Nothing. Chickenpox is running rampant in the schools here, and I have to be very careful now. Washing hands, etc. everyday. It’s annoying. Here’s today’s fictioneers.)

ted-struts-in-the-rain

© Ted Strutz

Let Love Be The Leader

by Miles H. Rost

Annika Lane peeked out from behind the tree, hearing the purr of the Shelby Cobra Mustang creeping close.

Once she saw it, she picked up her backpack and ran. Jumping in the window, she snapped her seatbelt and yelled “go!”

Tire marks were all that were left behind as the driver and his young lady blazed a trail as far from the area as possible.

“Where are we going, Luke?”

Luke Palumbo looked back.

“Somewhere were love will lead us. We’ll catch the ferry. Then drive until empty.”

She smiled, knowing their safety was a mere ferry ride away.

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Friday Fictioneers – A White Sport Coat…

(Author’s note: Hoping to publish some actual stories in the near future. It’s more that right now I just need to survive the next three months at work. Once I get that done with, it’s all better sailing from there. Enjoy my throw back to the past. )

j-hardy-rubble

© J. Hardy Carroll

A White Sport Coat (and a Pink Carnation)

by Miles H. Rost

40 years ago, I met a beautiful young lady named Michelle. We were in an art class at a local community center.

We grew close. We dressed up fashionably, to go out dancing and impress our friends on campus.

After each night of dancing, we’d doff our clothing and work on our art, painting each other in all that God gave us.

I told her that I would love her forever.

40 years later, I have bought the building, the old art hall where we met. The art hall that was destroyed by grenades fired by national guardmen.

The hall where she died.

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Friday Fictioneers – Guilty

(Author’s Note: My job is a tough one. It doesn’t leave me with much time to actually spend writing more things. I come home from work, and I am really tired. We’ll see what happens. In the meantime, here’s today’s fictioneers.)

frost-on-the-tombstone-liz

© Liz Young

Grandpa was never the same after we discovered the faded tombstone out back.

“I loved her. Love was the only crime I was guilty of. They can’t take that!”

We didn’t know what happened, but the words “throat cancer” and “1965” were constantly on his breath.

For weeks, he wouldn’t do anything except sit on the bench near the makeshift grave he made all those years ago.

One morning, we walked outside to see him hugging the gravestone.

“Grandpa, breakfast is ready!”

We walked over to shake him. He was cold, and he was gone.

Guilty.

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Friday Fictioneers – Got A Hold On Me

(Author’s Note: Nothing new to report. Here’s a fictioneers story.)

gateway-jhardy

© J. Hardy Carroll

Got A Hold On Me

by Miles H. Rost

Harley Parkinson looked at his inheritance, an old structure of a building he once lived in.

“Harley! Came to look at the place?”
He saw her. His old friend, and caretaker of the residence, Carissa Blanks.

“You’ve taken care of the place.”
“Since you left a decade ago.”
“Well, you’ve always been a good friend of the family.”
“Though, I’ve always thought it would be better to be part of the family.”

Harley chuckled, as he looked up.

“Remember what we did in the attic?”
“Yep. Have proof of it.”
“Huh?”

A 10 year old girl peeked from behind her mom.

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Friday Fictioneers – Big Dreams In A Small Town

(Author’s note: None. It’s March, I’m a month into my work at my school, and I am hard at work on stories. However, I will say that some of my fellow fictioneers may be contacted soon for permission to use their 100 word stories in my adults class on Fridays. Be prepared!)

jennifer-pendergast5

© Jennifer Pendergast

Big Dreams In A Small Town

by Miles H. Rost

“Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”
“When? After we graduate next week?”
“Yeah. Have you put any mind into your plans? Or maybe…even me?”

Mariko smiled at her boyfriend.

“Well, since winning state with the pop singers, I talked with the other two in our group. We could get a drummer and start working on an album.”

Her boyfriend looked aghast at her.

“Do you think we have time for that?”
“Big dreams and big wheels. That’s what I see. We got time for it.”

They looked up to the sky, hoping to see their fortune.

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Friday Fictioneers -Sunshine

(Author’s note: It’s 3-1 in Korea, Revolution Day. This means a day off. The only one I’ll have for the next 2 months. So today, I give my best! Enjoy! And there will be more stories during the week as I go walking and enjoying the nice weather.)

clouds-above-the-trees

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Sunshine

by Miles H. Rost

“I wish I could travel,” Rockne said, staring at the bright clouds above.

“Where would you go? Not many people leave Blackford County,” his cousin, Marcus, replied.

“I dunno. I had a dream of beautiful girls in robes recently.”

“Are ya thinking of Japan?”

“Maybe. Korea sounds pretty cool, too.”

Marcus turned to his side and looked at Rockne.

“You got the hots for Yumin in science class.”

“Whaaaaaaaa?”

“She’s from Korea, and quite nice to look at.”

Rockne squinted, as the sun came out.

“She’s Korean-American. She’s from Portland.”

“Oh.”

“But yeah, she’s my ray of sunshine…”

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Friday Fictioneers – Three Of Me

(Author’s note: Starting next week, I will be taking a social media break. It will not impact writing, but contact on Twitter, Gab, and Facebook will be curbed for one month. E-mail will be alright, if you need to. Here’s today’s Fictioneers…)

broken-face-liz

© Liz Young

The Three Of Me

by Miles H. Rost

 If you could see what I’ve seen, you’d swear I was not normal.

I’m not.

On one hand, I see like a child. Innocence, virtue, trust, all in one place. One another hand, I see death, vindictiveness, the decay of the world. And on the third hand, the one never seen, there’s pain, deception, and even love.

Every slap a betrayal, every push a declaration of love, every tear a cry for relief and comfort. And each time I am asked the same question: Is it all worth it?

For these children marked from substance abuse: You’re damn right.

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