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Friday Fictioneers – Old Coal Town

(Author’s note: Nothing. I have stuff going on that’s taking up a lot of time. Here’s our stuff.)

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Old Coal Town

by Miles H. Rost

Abandoned buildings.

The smells of dust, must, and nature filled my nose as I looked at the back of the old broken building. It was a great smell, and something I love coming back to.

Coming back to this place, getting away from the big city, it’s incredible.

And being able to restore something old is a great chance to help the people of the town my father destroyed.

His actions killed the coal town aspect of this town, but I am hoping the fortunes I made in tech will allow this town to become great.

Time to give back what they gave me. Love.

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Friday Fictioneers – I Won’t Hold You Back

(Author’s Note: A bit later than normal due to school conference. Here’s today’s fictioneers…and for the record, I’ve been really busy. Hence why it’s only been Fictioneers for a while now.)

 

© Emmy L. Gant

I Won’t Hold You Back

by Miles H. Rost

Marty looked at her picture. He sat on the park bench, tears slowly falling down his face.

He remembered the times they sat under that very bench. Holding, love flowing between both of them. He remembered just how much he loved her, and that he told her that it would be forever. He remembered the look on her face when she saw the ring, and when she wore the wedding dress that made her look so radiant.

He remembered those words he said, as she lay in that hospital bed.

“I won’t hold you back, sweetie.”

His last words to her. Cancer took over.

He collapsed. Openly bawling in the park.

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Friday Fictioneers – I’ll Still Be Loving You

© Sandra Crook

I’ll Still Be Loving You

by Miles H. Rost

The clock stayed at 9:15 for 15 years. Never moved an inch.

We held hands under that clock. Pledged our love undying.

We held hands, said forever, and gave our first kiss under that clock.

Under that clock, you told me we were having a baby. And when you told me that you miscarried.

I waited for you under that clock, for half the day.

I received the news. You were gone. Instantaneous.

What am I to do now? I cry, I wail, I weep. What do I do?

I heard a click, and looked up.

The hands moved.

9:16.


 

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Friday Fictioneers – Perfectly Good Guitar

Author’s Note: So, after a 6 month hiatus due to school and issues related, I finally have started posting stories again. My goal is to post one 1,000+ word story every week (likely on Sunday KST), and let people have at it. So, Sunday, I posted the first of a series that I plan to work on over this next year. Warriors of Honor is a series that details the life of five young ladies and how they deal with dual lives and faith. Two of the stories have been printed before on this blog, and they are going to be edited and released soon. However, if you like, you can read the first and main character of our series, The Fire Sniper. It is available for you to look over and enjoy. And don’t forget to comment! Now…onto the Fictioneers! 

© The Reclining Gentleman

A Perfectly Good Guitar

by Miles H. Rost

“You have to make a choice. The guitar,” she said, pointing at the 1971 Les Paul Custom in the chair, “or me.”

“Corinne, how long have I been in music?” Mike asked.

“23 years.”

“How long have we known each other.”

“10 years.”

“How long have I had that guitar?”

“20 years.”

“Yep. A gift from Richie. Now, how did I meet you?”

“Through Richie.”

“That’s right. Now, how long do you think I will have this guitar for? And how long would I have you?”

She blinked at him, unsure of what to do.

He picked up and smashed the guitar on the ground.

“I had the guitar for 20 years. I’ll have you for the rest of my life. C’mere.”

 

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Friday Fictioneers – Silly Love Songs

(Author’s Note: I’m getting settled into my new place, and will likely have original stuff up soon. Otherwise, here’s today’s fictioneers…a continuation of last week’s, in ways!)

 

© Amy Reece

Silly Love Songs

by Miles H. Rost

“Alright, we are here.”
“A set of steps? Why are we standing here?”
“It’s open and I want people to see this.”
“See what?”
“Remember the night of the Sydney fireworks?”
“How can I forget? You kissed me while I was talking.”
“But it was pretty good, wouldn’t you say?”
“I would, except I couldn’t.”
“Well, we’re on steps, you’re above me, and I am now kneeling with a box in my hand.”
“…”
“Will you marry me?”
She blinked.
He looked puzzled.
“Of course, you silly goose!”
“You have–”
All was silent, as he was given a scorcher of a smooch.

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Friday Fictioneers – New Year On High

(Author’s Note: The first Fictioneers of 2016, and I’m doing something a little different: Unique name, same great music and fiction you’ve come to love and enjoy! Next week’s writing will come from Cheongju, South Korea.)

 

© Melanie Greenwood

New Year On High

by Miles H. Rost

“I never though I’d see fireworks like this!”
“You mean, from ten thousand feet up in a jet?”
“This was a great idea, Mitch. You really made my New Year’s!”
“And I would like to make many more of these with you. Though, if you told me 9 years ago that I was going to be taking my worst enemy from high school up in my own private jet to celebrate New Year’s above Sydney…”
“And who would have though that I would actually be dating my sworn enemy in the first place.”
“Well, Melinda, they say people who hate each other sometimes really have too much love.”
“Wish I knew that back then. Would–“

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Friday Fictioneers – Brimstone

(Author’s Note: I am currently working on some new story-work to add to the blog, outside of the Fictioneers realm, but complications with real life have decided to take over and cause issues. So I am not sure when I’ll be putting up more original longer-form work. But, give it time, and I’ll be able to have more for my audience to peruse. In the meantime, here’s a work that I hope gives you some peace over this holiday season.)

 

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Brimstone

by Miles H. Rost

“Mom! Come here!”
“What is it?” Mom asked her son, as he looked out the kitchen window.
“Look at the sky!”
“It’s beautiful, honey, but we see the sky all the time.”
“But Mom, look at the color! Don’t you remember what Brian told us?”
She thought back to when her eldest son was still at home.
“When the sky looks like brimstone, you know I’m on my way.”
She smiled, as she heard a familiar sound roll into the driveway, the exhaust of an old 1975 Harley.
“He kept his promise.”
She smiled, as she walked into the living room, awaiting her eldest son’s first hug in 8 years.

 

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Friday Fictioneers – Sour Girl

(Author’s Note: Things can change in a week. Currently, I am waiting for my visa number to be issued. Upon that, I apply for a visa and head back to teach students in Korea yet again. I will likely be gone by the end of December and starting to teach at the beginning of January. So, I will be back to writing lots of newer stories, along with writing other things that won’t be published here. Today, we have another fictioneers event that seems like it’ll be quite fun.)

© Luther Siler

Sour Girl

by Miles H. Rost

The crunch awoke Paul from a dead slumber. Grumbling, he walked down stairs. He nearly reached the bottom when he froze.

“Dad!”

Paul looked into his 16 year old daughter’s face, surprised that she found his old college mascot costume.

“Charity! How did you get that?”
“I found it. Now tell me about this!”
“Well, I went to a local college here. You know it as the big university now. Our mascot was a yellow chicken. I did this to help pay for my tuition.”

Charity flipped her hand, knowing there was more.

“It was also the costume I wore when I first met your mom.”
“And there we have it.”
“She didn’t like it. She was a sour girl the day that she met me…”
“And how many years now?”
“19 wonderful years…”


(R.I.P. Scott Weiland)

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Friday Fictioneers – I Am A Rock

(Author’s Note: Things are stable down here in Melbourne, for the time being. Grades are starting to come in, so we’re waiting to see what happens. Due to my job search, I haven’t have had much time to actually do other writing besides Friday Fictioneers, but I plan to once things get further stabilized. In the meantime, here’s today’s Fictioneers piece.)

Photo Caption © Sandra Crook

I Am A Rock

by Miles H. Rost

(Not based on a true event or story)

The clouds boiled up in the south. The seas were calm, but they would become wild. The man stood near the edge of the craggy sandstone cliff, watching it all unfold.

The first storm of the season was about to hit his small Australian fishing village, and people were getting things ready for the haul that would come in: Felled timber from the western hills, fish from the bay.

“Fiona, you’d be proud of the people you’ve led,” the man said, as he opened the small urn. He tossed the contents into the air, nary a tear being shed.


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Friday Fictioneers – I’m Not Home

(Author’s notes: Sorry for not being as productive lately. It’s been a really tough time here in the land down under, and because of all that’s going on, my attention has been on getting myself stable, then getting myself out of here. I want to thank each and every one of you for reading my stories the last two weeks and giving me great feedback. You all make me so proud. Here is today’s fictioneers story.) 

 

© J. Hardy Carroll

I’m Not Home

by Miles H. Rost

Heidi Markham glared at her mother.

“We’ve been coming to Dad’s grave for 14 years. I’m about to graduate. You never told me what happened to him.”
“I guess it is that time,” her mother sighed, sitting down next to the flat gravestone, “Your dad came back from the Gulf, and he wasn’t right. But he always told me he was, so I didn’t say much about it.”

Heidi slowly knelt down by her Mom.

“He never told anyone. He never told me!”

She started to sob. Heidi hugged her, tears flowing down her face.

“He was too stubborn to ask for help, and he took his life. He never truly made it home.”