(Author’s Note: Nothing. Just good writing and good things. Here ya go!)
© Todd Foltz
The One Thing
Miles H. Rost
Becky “Spins” Hoffman was going for maximum effect.
The captain of the women’s baseball team at the local uni, her arm was well known as a lethal weapon.
What people didn’t know is that when challenged, her pranks were the other weapon she would use.
Using a little chemistry knowhow, she prepared the eggs sitting in the carton to the right specifications for this night. As her teammate sped, Becky fired egg after egg. Red, white, and blue splatters showed themselves.
They contrasted the red of the fluttering Soviet flag, and the face of the angry professor who owned it.
(Author’s note: Exam week and essay week is coming next week. That means I may have new stories to put on my blog. I’m not sure, however, due to the X factor of a new job and timeframe. So, here’s to seeing what comes. Otherwise, here’s today’s Friday Fictioneers piece!)
They Rage On
by Miles H. Rost
Diana Cheung looked around, and quickly boarded the bus.
“Dee! Over here!”
In the middle, next to the window, was her man. She smiled, and rushed to the open seat next to him.
“Did anyone see you?” he asked her.
“No. If they did, they aren’t coming.”
Her beau sighed with relief, as she laid her head on his shoulder.
“Are we going to be safe, honey?”
“Once we leave this town, we’ll be fine.”
She looked up at him, a tear falling.
“Was it our fault?”
“No. Love is not our fault.”
He looked out the window as the bus pulled away, the light reflecting off his pale skin.
(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.)
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.