(Author’s note – Oh come on now. This is low hanging fruit! Enjoy!)
© Brenda Cox
Season of the Witch by Miles H. Rost
A spinster on a bike.
The classic trope of old-style writing was personified by Miss Jane Banfield. Miserly, grumpy, past her prime. Jane was not someone to cross, and this day, a young girl’s cat crossed her with its claws. She held the basket lid down, blazing as fast as she could on her bike, trying to look prim and proper while making sure the feline didn’t escape. She didn’t realize that she was going too fast until she hit the small hill before the intersection. Bike and person flew, as cat leaped out. They said the cleanup was gruesome.
(Author’s note: Had to take last week off again, due to some unfortunate pain related to my exercise regimen. I’m better now. And while I’m on new business, there’s a new watcher to the board. His name is H.K., and he’s a great guy with a sense of humor. He’s someone who is interested in what Music and Fiction is all about. H.K., welcome aboard! Here’s today’s fictioneers…)
© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
by Miles H. Rost
His foot hooked on a root, and he fell flat on his face into a peat bog.
Michael ignored the pain and kept running.
He had to get away.
His girlfriend Nadine had gone nuts.
For the first 3 months, their relationship was hands off and very slow-going. Without warning, she jumped on him and tried to perform a tonsillectomy with her tongue.
Seeing the old brick garage, he ran in and barred the door. He could hide out there.
Light came on behind him. He turned around.
It was the end. He couldn’t run from her lust.