Friday Fictioneers – You Are The One

(No Author’s Note this time around. Enjoy! ^_^)

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© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

You Are The One

by Miles H. Rost

Arches. Too many arches.

Donna Argento never liked her ancestral home. The arches of the city made her feel like she was being led to slaughter like a lamb.

Until she saw the incredibly handsome man who turned down “Arch Avenue”, for lack of a better word, that is.

She couldn’t stop staring as he disappeared under the first of the 160 arches that comprised the street. And she finally told herself that she had enough.

A few minutes after he turned, Donna started walking after him. She didn’t care what fear might do to her, she was going to get her man, like the mounties!

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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!)

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© 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 – Sweet Freedom

Friday Fictioneers is here! Enjoy!

© Al Forbes

Sweet Freedom

by Miles H. Rost

“Got it loaded up?” Mark asked.

“Yeah. Took about an hour to do, but she’s still in good condition,” his brother, Peter, replied.

When they first saw the old jalopy, they knew that they had to have her. But it cost almost everything they had to get it from the owner, who hated what it was and was leaving it to rot.

“Can’t believe how much it took to get her out of that prison. But just wait, with a little time, we’ll get her running again. I mean, we already got her looking clean.”

The car beamed in the sunshine, free.

Friday Fictioneers – What’d I Say?

(Author’s note: I hope to be up for new things soon. I got smacked around by a cold last weekend. I hope to do a lot more soon. Anyhow, here’s today’s work!)

 

© Jan W. Fields

What’d I Say

by Miles H. Rost

Sex.

It was all Marcus knew. It was all that oozed out of his pores. And as he sat at the piano, his back against the ivories, he looked like he was about to pop.

Sex.

It was also a big problem. He held the letter in his hand, frowning at it. 13 names, 13 women, 13 calls for more money than he could ever make in a year.

He turned around and looked at the keys. He needed to find an outlet for all the sex in his system.

He found it in C minor…

The Lady In White (Take Me With You)

The Lady In White
(aka Take Me With You)
by Miles Rost

I’ve seen her before. In the recesses of my mind, when I haven’t been paying attention, she’s there.

It usually starts the same way. I’m doing some sort of work-related task, maybe grousing a bit, or I hear a certain song. My mind drifts off to a beautiful beach. I assume that I am on a beach somewhere in the Southern Pacific, somewhere like Australia. That seems to be where my mind drifts off to, lately.

I’m on this beach, and I see this woman in front of me. She’s grabbing a hold of my wrist and forearm, laughing and being playful. Never do I see her face, but I do see what she wears. Each time I have the dream, or vision, she’s always wearing the same thing.

She wears a white cord-knit sweater, a slight bit bulky but not too big. Big enough to hide things, but not enough to make it a true mystery, even though most times the dream is a bit fuzzy (like when I don’t wear my glasses.) The sweater is a long-sleeved one, and reminds me of an older style of dress. She also wears a pair of white pants. I’m not sure if they’re jeans, capris, thin material, or whatnot. They show her curves off, but not so much as to make her look like a Kardashian or Mitsune Konno. Finally, she wears a pair of white canvas shoes. I know that they are because I cannot perceive holes anywhere on the shoes. It would also fit the idea of beach attire.

Strangely enough, I never see her face. She seems to have long hair, but I’m not sure what color it is exactly. It could be brown, black, or even red. But never do I see her face. It’s always obscured, or blurred out like one of those pixelated pictures to hide a person’s identity. Always a bit frustrating, but hey, who said dreams and visions weren’t a challenge?

The first part of the dream or vision, as I said earlier, is her pulling me along the beach. I can feel the salt in the air, and I can see that she is laughing. Apparently, she’s either wanting me to see something, or she’s just happy that I’m there. It’s in slower motion, but I noticed that she’s trying to keep me close as we stumble down the sandy shore.

Each time I’ve had the vision of her, it’s been a bit different. The first time I had the vision, we were as said above. But in later ones, she’s always been in my mind. Recently, when going through the final processes of giving up an addiction from which 20 years descended, I saw her in my dream. She wasn’t pulling on my sleeve. The air about her seemed to be serious, but with loving concern, and she gave me a thumbs up. It seemed like she was saying “You’re gonna make it through, and I’m here for you.”

Other times, I’ve had more than one dream or vision in sequence. The other dream is of both of us on a porch, looking over a hilly meadow and a tree that has afternoon autumn sunlight peeking through the browning leaves of the tree. She’s laying against my shoulder, while I hold her gently. We just sit for hours as the sun falls below the hills off in the distance.

I keep wondering about this lady in white. It feels quite a bit like one of those bad anime where a boy makes a promise to a young girl that they will be together and get married, and they move away from each other for 15 years or so, and meet up again to find that they’re different…and yet, so alike.

There are so many different possible explanations to what it could be. From wild and creative ideamaking, to a personal prophecy, to inter-soul communications, there are hundreds of explanations.

But I realize that sometimes, an explanation is not the thing that one needs. Maybe, just maybe, one may have to enjoy those fleeting moments in your own mind. If it turns out to be true, then all the better…

Dreamscape

by Miles Rost

 

Klaus started to stir, as the winds gently caressed his face. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. He looked around, and found himself on a beautiful windswept beach.

The sands were like salt and pepper, dark and light waves of sand coarsing across the entire beach. He saw the ocean’s waves crest and fall, the tide coming in and going out. The sky was a beautiful blue, with the sun overhead as though it was late afternoon. It was, in his mind, the perfect time and perfect place. It was where he wanted to be for his entire life, and he was there now.

He started walking down the beach, letting the waves lap at his feet as they lazily came and went. He breathed in the sea air, the scent of salt and marine life wafting like a gentle perfume into his nostrils. He walked for what seemed to be a long time, when he saw someone in the distance.

He continued walking as the figure in the distance got closer. He was happy that he wasn’t going to be the only one on this beach. He kept walking, kicking piles of sand and leaving his footprints behind on the soggy sandy shoreline. As he got closer to the figure, he noticed that it was decidedly feminine. And she had a familiar look to her. He got closer, to the point where he got to see her face.

He blanched, because what he saw could not be true. He was looking at his own mother, who had passed on many years before.

“Mom?! Is that you?” he cried out.

She walked over to him and smiled.

“It is me, Klaus,” his mother said.

“But, I thought you were dead.”

“My body is dead, but you know that my spirit lives on.”

Klaus took a nervous breath.

“But, if you’re not here, is this a dream?”

“It very well may be. However, I am here to offer some help.”

He looked at her, and gave her a look of wonder.

“You have been having trouble with your life, and where you want to go.”

“That is true, mom. I have been wanting to do something that is my passion, and the world seems to want me to go a different direction.”

His mom chuckled.

“Do you remember what I told you when you decided to go to business college?”

“I remember. You told me, ‘Don’t do what you want to do for money, do it because you love it.'”

“That’s right. Now, are you doing what you love to do?”

He looked down at his feet, and shook his head.

“I’m doing what I can to survive.”

“Then, my son, you should change it and look at doing something you love.”

He looked at his chestnut-haired mother, smiling cherub-like.

“I still wish you were around, Mom. I could use your help at times.”

She smiled back at him, and bowed.

“My darling son, I’m always around.”

She suddenly disappeared.

It was then that Klaus awoke from his slumber, in a sweat. He looked around the darkened room, at the alarm clock that signaled 4:30AM. As he turned himself over to go to sleep again, he mused at what he dreamed.

He looked at a picture of his mom, sitting on top of the nightstand.

“Happy Mother’s Day, mom. I miss you so much.”