Friday Fictioneers – After The Rain

(Author’s notes: Well, after a harrowing day, I passed my driver’s test. I spent today, the day after, applying for jobs in my area. Hoping to find something relatively quickly, but who knows what the job search may bring. In the meantime, I’m bringing up music and revisiting old artists I never thought I’d see again. Here’s one of them, to enjoy today’s Fictioneers with.)

mt-lemmon-with-tree

© Jan Wayne Fields

After The Rain

by Miles H. Rost

Waterfalls.

Jack and Melinda Berry looked out over the vast valley, transformed from a dry and forbidden place into a vast and colorful vista.

To the left, waterfalls that cascaded quickly. To the right, wildflowers that bloomed once or twice a year. Behind them was the campsite, still wet from the prior night’s deluge.

They were worried about each other then, something they hadn’t done in many years. Huddled together as the storms whipped around them on that mountain ledge, they waited it out.

“It’s breathtaking, Jack.”

“You sure are, sweetie.”

In soaked clothing, Melinda snuggled at Jack’s side.

Hope.

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Friday Fictioneers – Mandolin Rain

(Author’s note: Currently dealing with work issues that crop up like rocks in a plowed field. Gotta pick them and toss them, and keep chugging away. I’ll have more stuff soon. In the meantime, enjoy this Fictioneers post. BTW, if you’re in Australia, Germany, Mexico, Japan, or New Zealand, you won’t be able to watch the video. Look for Bruce Hornsby and The Range – Mandolin Rain)

 

© Mary Shipman

Mandolin Rain

by Miles H. Rost

We walked into the house, clothes soaking wet after a downpour that we didn’t expect.

“Honey, take your clothes off before going into the living room. I don’t want the carpet to get water on it.”
“So where are you going to put them, since we don’t have our dryer yet?”
“We’ll go Korean-style.”
“Where ya going to hang them from?”
“The rafters? The chandelier?

I took a breath, and looked around.

“Well, at least it’s not going to be occupied.”
“By whom?”
“Well, I was thinking…”

My face turned beet red. She started sputtering.