Friday Fictioneers – Do What You Do

(Author’s note: There’s a lot of things going on, and my production of fiction hasn’t been very productive because of other factors. I shall have more stuff up soon, but at this time, all I am able to do is Fictioneers stuff. To which, here’s today’s offering.)


© C.E. Ayr

Do What You Do
by Miles H. Rost

“So, I noticed that you came in with only one shoe. What happened?”

Bridget Moroney bit her lip as the question hit her with full force. It was the one question she didn’t want to answer.

“Well, I was rushing to get here, and a man pushed me out of the way. My foot stepped onto a drain grate and the heel got stuck. I couldn’t pull it out.”

“Did you think of breaking off the heel?” the interviewer asked, her voice in disbelief.

“It wouldn’t have done much good. So I just took off my other shoe and walked the rest of the way here.”

“Where did you walk from?”

“56th and Broadway.”

The interviewer’s eyes bugged out.

“You’re hired.”


Walking Home Alone

by Miles Rost

Daniel “Danny” Barstow hated walking.

Every time he ended up walking, something either had gone wrong in his life, or was going to go wrong. Whenever he got that feeling of walking, he tried everything to avoid going out. No matter what he did, though, he would always find himself walking and with a new set of problems to deal with.

The first time he ended up walking was ten years before, after he broke up with his longtime girlfriend, Yolanda. He walked for 20 miles before he finally stopped. He was cold, tired, and hungry, and ended up spending over 200 dollars on a hotel room for the night. For the first few years, whenever that happened, it was always something that went wrong that caused him to walk.

About five years later, he found the first time that something bad happened after he went walking. He wanted to take a nice walk around the park, and ended up in the next county 18 miles away. He was picked up by police and charged with vagrancy and being a public nuisance, which were later dropped after finding out that he wasn’t a drifter.

Three more years later, he found that feeling of walking again. He was laying in bed when he got the urge to walk. He realized this and he took a sleeping pill to try and stop the walking from going on. When he finally woke up, he was in the middle of a cow pasture, 15 miles from home and in the blazing daylight sun. He was arrested for trespassing, and subsequently released.

And now, today, he had just gotten laid off from his job. Working for a construction firm as their lead designer, the economy turned sour for him and he was laid off. He didn’t know how much of a bad day it would have been, until he dropped his car off at home. That’s when his cell phone rang.

“Hey, Danny. What’s going on?”
“I got laid off from my job. I need to file for unemployment, and try to find another job.””How about coming down to the bar by my place, and I’ll help you feel better.”
“Gabriel, There’s no way I am taking my car down to your neck of the woods.”
“Then why don’t you walk down here.”

When Gabriel said the word ‘walk’, Danny’s feet shifted.

“You don’t want to take the car, so why not walk?”

Danny’s feet shuffled this time.

“Gabriel, I don’t want to go. Now stop telling me to do the ‘w’ thing.”
“‘W’ thing? You mean walk?”

As Gabriel kept saying the word, to Danny’s great annoyance and fear, his feet started walking on it’s own.

“Gah! What the hell? Gabriel, stop saying that word. You’re prompting my feet to walk on their own!”

Gabriel did not stop saying the word until Danny arrived at the bar.

“Now, we’re going to get you drunk, you will go home, and you’re not going to worry about things.”
“But I’m going to get into trouble. It always happens after I go walking.”
“But at least you’ll have fun getting into trouble, right?”

Danny just hung his head and looked his inevitable future. He was at the mercy of other people to walk where they wanted him to go.

Intimate Strangers

by Miles Rost

From the diary of Richard Sullivan

With the plop of papers into my basket, I was done with my day.

I slid on my leather trenchcoat as I stood up from the desk. It had rained earlier in the day, and it helped to keep my clothes dry. I looked at the papers on my desk, sitting neatly in the basket in which I plopped them down. A typical Thursday evening, everything was ready for tomorrow morning, and I would be on my way home.

I walked out of my building, and onto the sidewalk. I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes for a second as I looked towards the sinking sun in the northwestern sky. The heaviness that was in my heart, in my hands, had come back to sit down upon things.

My thoughts turned from work and work issues to the burden on my shoulders. As the heaviness in my heart spread, the indicator that I was being “called” came up. As I felt the stiffness and the aching in my index fingers, and knew that she was the one in trouble.

I walked towards my home and I focused my thoughts inwards. I took many deep breaths as I walked slowly towards my one-bedroom apartment. I searched deep within my heart to see what was going on, what the problem was.

She has been there for the longest time. I’m not sure who she is, as I have never met this woman. It’s unusual, because I normally wouldn’t connect with someone I don’t know. But, I can sense her in my heart and in my indicators. I feel as though she is not doing very well today. When this happens, I think about the things that I can do from here.

In the time since I left work, have been thinking about this woman, and arrived outside my apartment, it’s been about 25 minutes. Walking is a great thing as it clears one’s head. However, to be honest, I didn’t feel much clearing today, especially in regards to her.

I walked into my apartment and set my things down. After taking a shotglass of water and downing it, I sat on the edge of my bed and started to pray. In this case, it’s the only thing I can do. I don’t know where she is, so I cannot be near her. I know that my prayers, however, will allow her comfort. That she will be shown love in a way that’s totally different from anything.

This woman and I are intimate strangers. We are connected in a way that no one could even fathom, and yet we have never met. And I hope that sometime in the very near future, I’ll be able to see her and that we’ll both know that we’re the ones. This is my hope and prayer.