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Friday Fictioneers – Steppin’ Out

(Author’s Note: Thought things were going to be late due to the election and the results…but I was able to get them looked at, and was able to spend time. I think I should have time for more long-fiction coming up. We’ll see. Anyhow, here’s today’s Fictioneers.)

crook-roof

© Sandra Crook

Steppin’ Out

by Miles H. Rost

“How about this hat? Don’t I look good in it?”

“Honey, you look like one of the locals in that. It’s like you’re wearing the board from Family Feud on your head.”

“Oh, poo. You’re no fun.”

Christine Bakshri smiled, as she turned around and looked at the other hats in the market of Tashkent. Her beau, Henry, looked bored but was secretly enjoying himself.

“Henry, do you think we’ll ever return home?”

“We stepped out of the country for a year. Do we really want to step back in?”

Christine thoughtfully looked around.

“Naaaaaaah!”

They gave a wave, and continued walking down the market street.

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Friday Fictioneers – Building Bridges

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© Claire Fuller

Building Bridges

by Miles H. Rost

A bell jingled flatly.

Gerald the storekeeper looked up, noticing the teenage girl spying different products on the shelves. He opened the window to let the sea air fill the tiny shop.

The girl kept looking around, and when Gerald got a good look at her, he smiled.

“Ophelia Krain! What are you doing here?”

She looked up and crinkled her eyes.

“Tryin’ to find a special lure.”

Gerald stopped for a second. Why would a pretty girl need a lure?

“Any reason?”

“Dad’s coming to visit”, she beamed.

Gerald frowned at her.

“I hope he’s not going to stay long…”, he said, grabbing the brass knuckles under his cabinet.

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Friday Fictioneers – Dear Jacqui

from-amy-reese

Photo Prompt © Amy Reese

Dear Jacqui

by Miles H. Rost

A letter, received in the post on a Sunday

Dear Jacqui,

I am at peace. You don’t have to worry about me anymore, because I am doing what needs to be done.

I did what I had to do, to help you get the peace you never had while we were together. All of this, just to say “I love you” in a way I couldn’t before.

Don’t think bad of me for what I’m doing. I don’t care about myself. Never did. I only want you to be happy.

It’ll all be over in a minute.

My love and goodbye to you.

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Friday Fictioneers – Whatever Happens

(Author’s note: I will be doing some updates on this Chuseok weekend. I will also post a big personal non-story update, to give people an idea of what’s to come with Music and Fiction. In the meantime, here’s today’s fiction!)

shaktikiff2

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PHOTO PROMPT © Shaktiki Sharma

Whatever Happens

by Miles H. Rost

 Devon plopped the lump of clay on the wheel.

She cut and removed pieces she didn’t need, like pieces of her life that were unusable. She slowly formed the rounded lump with her hands. Pushing and pulling the clay, smoothing it out with water, she slowly developed it into a shapely, beautiful vase.

She pulled out a brush and some glaze. She pulled out a small tin, and mixed the grey powder into the small jar of glaze. She painted the fired vase, and put it back in for more firing.

The final product stood in the entryway, a tribute to her dearly lost husband, who was now a part of the beautiful vase.

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Friday Fictioneers – Second Chances

(Author’s Note: Nothing major to report. Just working like I normally do. Enjoy today’s fictioneers, because I think it’s a good one.)

PHOTO PROMPT -© Vijaya Sundaram

Second Chances

by Miles H. Rost

“It’s been nearly 15 years, Rachel.”

“Since?”

“Since I’ve been on a date like this.”

“The last time you were on a rooftop, watching fireworks and drinking mojitos?”

Charles looked at Rachel with a wan smile.

Rachel’s eyes crinkled, looking deep into his face.

They both scooted closer to each other, her head resting on his shoulder.

“The difference this time is that I’m not in the middle of a war zone.”

“Which zone?”

“Kandahar.”

Rachel sighed, her displeasure obvious.

“Does it bother you?”

“Nah. I just miss Kandahar. But, I know I’m safe with my big Marine.”

He smiled, watching the fireworks go off.

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Friday Fictioneers – Honeycomb

(Author’s Note: Getting busy. Getting my writing on. Boomba. Enjoy this song throwback!)

 

PHOTO PROMPT © Janet Webb

Honeycomb

by Miles H. Rost

“Honey!”

Francine Jameson called out to her husband, waving her arms frantically as he rushed over.

“I found a great specimen! I think this old comb is one from the 1990s.”

Her husband picked it up and examined it.

“I think this is the one from when we first met.”

She smiled at him broadly. “I’m glad we came back here.”

He pulled her close and smiled. “Except this time, you don’t have 500 bees and a nest next to you, pestering you.”

“Well, if you didn’t save me, those bees would have got me.”

“And instead, it was me who got you.”

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Friday Fictioneers – Everything You Want

(Author’s note: On With the show! ^_^)

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

Everything You Want

by Miles H. Rost

He sat alone, his back to a bush, overhearing some of the young folk.

“I’m really pumped up by his ideas!”
“Yeah, he’s got this new way of doing things that’s really awesome.”
“I like our current one, but this new guy’s got fire.”

The young man looked out at the world, listening as they gushed. As they walked away, he sighed and looked out at the rest of the world.

Suddenly, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked and saw a mousy brunette staring at him through stylish glasses.

“I still think you’re the best pastor, Pastor Bob.”

He smiled, as she walked away.

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Friday Fictioneers – Angel In The Morning

(Author’s Note: On With The Show!)

 

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Angel Of The Morning

by Miles H. Rost

Usagi looked outside, her long red hair a contrast to the thick snow on the window.

She wanted it. She knew what she wanted, and she finally took it. That was all, and no one could tell her otherwise.

She sat at the foot of her bed, smiling down and giving a little giggle at remembering everything that happened the night before. Magic happened last night, and she never wanted to see it go away.

She looked at her basset hound, with a small persian cat curled up within, sleeping away. They were the best of friends, and she was happy.

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Friday Fictioneers – Winelight

© C.E. Ayr

Winelight

by Miles H. Rost

“The old city has changed since we got married.”

Jeanette Brunwick and her husband Gary looked around as they cruised down the middle of the river on their pleasurecraft. They returned to their city after 15 years away.

“Remember that the old cannery used to be right there,” she said, pointing to an area that now sat an arena.

“That was where I stole my first kiss from you. The first night we drank wine, and figured that we’d be sommeliers.”

“The winelight, the moonlight. And now it’s obstructed by baseball games.”

“You can never return home,” Gary said, sighing.

 

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Friday Fictioneers – Mandolin Rain

(Author’s note: Currently dealing with work issues that crop up like rocks in a plowed field. Gotta pick them and toss them, and keep chugging away. I’ll have more stuff soon. In the meantime, enjoy this Fictioneers post. BTW, if you’re in Australia, Germany, Mexico, Japan, or New Zealand, you won’t be able to watch the video. Look for Bruce Hornsby and The Range – Mandolin Rain)

 

© Mary Shipman

Mandolin Rain

by Miles H. Rost

We walked into the house, clothes soaking wet after a downpour that we didn’t expect.

“Honey, take your clothes off before going into the living room. I don’t want the carpet to get water on it.”
“So where are you going to put them, since we don’t have our dryer yet?”
“We’ll go Korean-style.”
“Where ya going to hang them from?”
“The rafters? The chandelier?

I took a breath, and looked around.

“Well, at least it’s not going to be occupied.”
“By whom?”
“Well, I was thinking…”

My face turned beet red. She started sputtering.