Friday Fictioneers – Life Is A Lemon…

(Author’s Note: Do you know how sore a person can get if they have not actually gone to a gym and exercised properly? Well, I’m that guy. Arms are about as sore as can be. But, you know what? It’s worth it. In 6 months, in 1 year, I will be further in shape. This is good for a writer. And, further, Happy Independence Day. To all veterans who fought for our freedom: We cannot owe you enough. There is not enough in this world to give that makes up for the years you sacrificed. Take honor in what you have done. Here’s the fictioneers!)

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© J. Hardy Carroll

Life Is A Lemon…

by Miles H. Rost

Gasps so loud, they silenced everything else.

The protesters outside the conference center couldn’t believe what they saw.

A college-aged woman had walked through their line, stood in front, and took off her leg.

Cherry strands of hair glided across her face as a breeze came through.

She stood there, hands stretched to the side, on one leg.

For 5 minutes, no one moved. No one did anything. They just stood and stared.

She smiled, looking around.

“I think y’all got the point,” she said, as she put her leg back on.

She put her pant leg down, and walked away.

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Friday Fictioneers – Brave New World

(Author’s note: Helping friends out with their issues here in Korea. Seems to me like I was sent back to Korea for precisely this moment. Future writings are coming, that are non-fictioneers. Here we go with today’s, though!)

© Rich Vosa

Brave New World

by Miles H. Rost

“It’s been 7 years since I’ve been home. I’m worried about what I’m going to find.”

He looked at his friend, Cord, as he was ready to board his plane at Gate A19.

“You’ve been through hell in Vietnam. You’ve taken some time and got recharged. It’s time for you to go home and see people.”

He looked at Cord sadly.

“But what if they’re like all the others who’ve been spitting on our comrades, pouring urine over them, and all that.”

“I think you’ll find that most of those stories are in the bigger cities. You’re going to Muncie, Indiana. Not happening.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, as he handed his ticket to the gate clerk.