rock

by

Friday Fictioneers – These Dreams

(Author’s note: Hi. You’ve probably noticed that I haven’t written for about a month now. Work got crazy, and my mind got really really tired. I needed to rest after all the work that I had to do. As such, my mind has become a bit stale. So, here’s an offering that may not necessarily be the best, but it’ll be good enough for jazz.)

© Roger Bultot

These Dreams

by Miles H. Rost

4 weeks. Mindless data entry. Sleep…

But I need to write.

Walking walking walking. Oh, let’s see about this door…

*slam*

Oh. I guess not that idea. Let’s try this one.

*clink. clink clink clink clink*

You gotta be kidding me. Can I not even find an idea to work with. Let’s try this next one.

*open*

“I AM YOUR BED. I ORDER YOU TO SLEEP IN ME! UGHLALALAL—“

*slam*

Aw hell naw. Okay, last one. Let’s see…

*click*

“Ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding…”

I don’t know what this is…but I think I have my next story!

by

Friday Fictioneers – As Lights Fall

(Author’s note: Job is getting more hectic, more busy. Hoping to have more time now to do things. Didn’t get it last week. Here’s this week’s work:)

on-route-66-jean-l-hays

© Jean L. Hays

Reach

by Miles H. Rost

An investment of decades.

Bart slowly scanned the large stretch of land in Eastern Oregon that he called home. The sun was approaching the horizon, bathing him in an eerie orange.

He bought the land with a major investment he made just after World War II. He did well with the cattle, until he sold them a month before. The sale put into a safe trust for his grandchildren, provided they took up a marketable trade.

He put his back to the rock, and watched the sun go down.

As his final breath left him, it was his last call.

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter

by

Friday Fictioneers – Rock Me Amadeus

(Author’s note: Thanks to all the folks who have subscribed to this blog. Some exciting things may be developing soon, so stay tuned to this blog for more info. Otherwise, let’s go with this! Today’s Fictioneers!)

ceayr2

© C.E. Ayr

Rock Me Amadeus

by Miles H. Rost

“The map says we need to climb this rock to get to the treasure,” Colin said.
“Are you sure? This rock doesn’t seem safe,” Hannah replied.
“Come on, if the contest didn’t think this was safe, they wouldn’t have put it in the directions.”
“Well, I’m not sure it’s safe. Take a look, it seems tipsy.”
“I’ll prove it to you that it is safe. Give me a moment.”

Colin started to climb the rock, and it started to roll over. He jumped as it rolled it’s way into a farmhouse below.

“Well, rock me, Amadeus…”

Hannah rolled her eyes.

wpimg

by

Friday Fictioneers – Kashmir (Sweater)

bjc3b6rn-14

© Bjorn Rydberg

Kashmir (Sweater)

by Miles H. Rost

Mark lifted his head up from his book, as he heard the sweet sounds of a cello waft over him. Within the confines of the coffee shop, this was a perfect sound at a perfect moment.

He looked around and spied the young cellist, wearing a beautiful white cashmere cable-knit sweater and a flowing brown skirt. She looked up at him through garnet-rimmed glasses and strands of wavy brown hair, smiling.

“So, I finally got your attention.”

“Cindy? Why did you want my attention?”

“You told me you didn’t like cellos. They didn’t rock.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m here to prove they can.”

The first strains of Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir” rose from the cello, and Mark instantly knew he was going to eat humble pie.

wpimg

by

Friday Fictioneers – Don’t Forget Me When I’m Gone

(Author’s Note: I keep giving excuses. There’s no real excuse for not having anything besides fictioneers this week. I just got lazy this week, and I needed it. Anyhow, here it is!)

© Kent Bonham

Don’t Forget Me When I’m Gone

by Miles H. Rost

“Cindy! Cindy, it’s time for dinner!”

Mom was calling again. I hated when that happened, because it means that fun was to end and my studies had to begin again.

I pulled my coloring book off the rock and put it under my arm. I couldn’t wait to get back to it tomorrow.

“Hey!”

I heard a noise coming from somewhere.

“HEY!”

I looked around. “Hello?

“In the book, you brat!” it said, quite muffled.

I opened up the book, and the stick man which Ihad half-colored was frowning at me.

“You nearly killed me, kid!”

It spoke. And it wasn’t going to shut up. Oh no, Mom’s not gonna be happy about this…

by

Friday Fictioneers – Walls

(Author’s note: Things have been quite busy this week. Bad experiences abounded, but good things are to come. Week 6 of uni has almost come to a close, and there’s another 7-8 weeks left to go. But, some big stories will be done soon, as I will need time to just sit and write and detox from writing essays. You all may be recipients of the work. Anyhow, here’s today’s Friday Fictioneers, with a bit of Australian flair involved.)

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Walls

by Miles H. Rost

“What’s the number on this one?” Senior Constable Alistair MacKaye asked.
“Looks like this is the fifth one,” his partner, Constable Jacklyn Brandt replied.
“And I’ve been called out here six times in the past month.”
“I don’t understand, is there something about this place?”

Alistair just gazed at his young charge.

“Jackie, do you know anything about icehouses?”
“Nah. Never heard of them back in the bush.”
“It’s a nuthouse. They like the walls. Sometimes they climb them.”
“And then?”
“Some of them fall off.”
“Isn’t that a travesty?”
“Eh, I don’t mind the walls. They keep us safe.”

by

Friday Fictioneers – Be Good To Yourself

(Author’s note: As you can tell, I have finished with my job in Korea. I am on a “working vacation” while I get things ready for my move to the land down under. If you want to see what I’ve been busy on, please go read the Warrior series of stories that have been put up over the last month. Can’t wait to hear from you all. And now, here’s today Friday Fictioneers post.)

 

©Raina Ng

Be Good To Yourself

by Miles H. Rost

The door burst open, a flash of grey and black rushing past the kitchen counter.

Within a 3 minute timeframe, another flash of white, black, and red barreled into the rest of the kitchen. At a breakneck speed, refrigerators were opened, utensils used, ingredients piled, and sandwiches made. At the same speed, everything was put back or wrapped up in plastic bags.

For a moment, Dan Magnum looked around the kitchen, his brown hair still moving from the activeness he just displayed.

“Alright. Sandwiches made, clothes changed, suitcase in the car. It’s vacation time!”

He grabbed his sandwiches, got in his car, and zipped down the road to his next destination: Nothing.

by

Friday Fictioneers – Punk Rock

Good day, everyone! This blog is about to go boom, as in explode with people visiting soon. I have a facebook page that people can come and visit (and like) at this link. I’m also on Twitter, just look for @MusicAndFiction. 

Also, before I go with the show today, make sure you read over the last two stories that have come out. These are big ones, what I call the “normal” stories. Get inspired, get involved, and enjoy them. You can read “Angelia” and “We Fight Another Day” at the links. 

Now, time for the Friday Fictioneers story!

Copyright – Marie Gail Stratford

Punk Rock

by Miles Rost

Three guys, drunk as sin, walking home from a punk concert and pub crawl. All three passed by a window.

“Oi! Wot ya take an eye at that!”

“Wow! It’s got spikes an’ everything!”

“Yeah! That’s definitely punk!”

All three roared out in laughter, as they kept walking past.

After a few moments, the pile of rocks started to lift up from where it was. Underneath it popped out a head.

“Oooh! I really like this style! I think this hat will go great with my rhino-stone dress,” the head said, standing up straight. Under the hat was a very stylish socialite, opening her very expensive purse.

“The hat rocks, ma’am,” the store owner said, as he chuckled while collecting the money.