(Author’s note: Well, I did it. I got the full-time job. This means a little more security, and means a little more stability for my writing schedule. I am hoping to be back up to speed fully. Also, my health has taken a turn for the better, so I am celebrating. Enjoy today’s fictioneers.)
© Dawn Miller
by Miles H. Rost
20 years passed since I left high school. I did things many of my classmates didn’t, in that time.
I left Minnesota, I left the United States, I left the Western Hemisphere, and the Northern too.
The funny thing is: I missed some of my classmates.
Tarik, the funny man of my choir days, keeps Minnesota’s air pure.
Dave’s doing great farm work in the Dakotas. Margot is keeping America’s workers safe. Adrienne is helping people achieve their best, and Chad’s keeping the mail moving.
Some of our paths chosen, some chosen for us. But for one weekend, we are together.
Oh hai thar! It’s a-me! And the school that I used to go to.
(Author’s Note: Slowly settling in. New stuff will be coming soon. Here’s today’s Fictioneers, just for you!)
© Erin Leary
The Greatest American…Hunter?!
by Miles H. Rost
It was supposed to be a fun filled weekend of paintball and male bonding for the 50 men from Woodbridge Manufacturing. All expenses paid by the company.
It turned into a fight for survival.
In a swamp, close to the cabin, two clumps off reeds stood among old broken tree stumps. Terry and Gonzalo peered through the reeds, fear covering their face.
“I didn’t sign up for this!”
“Quiero ir a casa con mi esposa.”
“I understand that, mi amigo.”
They both held their paintball guns up, looking around for their predator. A rustling made Terry jump.
“OW! I’ve been SHOT! This does NOT HAPPEN to me!”
Terry turned around to find his boss, the expert paintballer, on the ground. A big red stain covered his chest. His eyes went wide. Gonzalo shook his head.
“Estás en problemas ahora, jefe.”