(No message today, but may have some things in the cooker for the weekend. 20 year class reunion this weekend. Enjoy the fictioneers today!)
© Sandra Crook
Hold Your Head Up
by Miles H. Rost
Chuck beamed with pride.
He finally finished. It took months, but he did it with his own hands. He ran inside, and smiled at his dad.
“Dad! Come take a look!”
“What is it, Chuck?”
“Come with me!”
His dad walked out to the greenhouse and looked. Seeing Chuck’s creation, he smiled.
“See Chuck, I knew you could do it.”
“I know, Dad. But it’s real now! And you can put things in it.”
His 17 year old son created something useful. Down Syndrome didn’t stop him. His dad smiled, knowing his son was going to create beautiful, workable things.
(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.)
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.
Hey there, everyone. Last week was a killer for me, on many fronts. I couldn’t do half of what I wanted to do. The good news is that I will have time this week to do some major writing, so keep up on it. Here’s today’s fiction:
copyright Melanie Greenwood
Hedging Your Bets
by Miles Rost
“I just put in my notice.”
Mark Jackson had a look on his face that was bliss. His cube-mate, Jesse Blaylock, wasn’t so sure.
“So, you’re going to quit without an exit plan?”
“Absolutely not. I have that plan. I’m going to take the first job that I get, and while I work at that one, I’ll work on my passion.”
Jesse’s eye went up at that.
“And what if you don’t find a job?”
“That’s the beauty of it. They’re always looking for someone. I will do any job, just as long as I don’t have to work at this place.”
“You, sir, have faith. If I don’t get to see you go today, here’s to hoping the maze don’t get ya.”