(Author’s note: Doing something dangerous. Took off my splint and am writing this properly. Putting splint back on after it’s done, but so far…no problems. Anyhow, here’s today’s fictioneers…just for all y’all.)
© The Court Jester of Friday Fictioneers, Russell Gayer
by Miles H. Rost
Running from the frozen lake, Brian Gerlach saw the open shed and the toilet.
“Brian, come on! We’ve only got another hour before our moms call us for dinner.”
“But I really gotta go!”
“Fine, but you’re on your own!”
He didn’t need their help. He’d use the toilet and get back to skating. It was winter after all.
He sat down on the snow-colored commode and did his business. He tried to stand up, but his behind wouldn’t budge.
Worse yet, the water around his skates had since frozen up.
He cried for help, worried that it wouldn’t come.
(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! )
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.
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.