Posted in My Friday Fictions

The Flyby.

“Hey, Rob. You with me man?” I focused my attention, a return trip from lost in space.

“Sorry, Phil. Not all here at the moment.” An understatement if ever there was one.

Understanding showed in my friend’s eyes. “No worries. I was only talking about plans for after we land. These conventions are great for connections and a few The Flyby by Ronovan Hesterbook sales but I like hitting a few spots not on the agenda.”

His smile made it evident to me his spots and my spots would not connect to form a picture of Central Park and the historic apartment buildings adjacent. “I plan to tour the city and get a feel for some of the architecture and people, take some notes, get the atmosphere of it all for a book idea I have swirling around in this old brain of mine.”

“Rob, you need to have some fun, and I don’t mean with buildings and tour guides, unless the tour guide is a little blonde.”

Friend is not the right word to describe the affiliation Phil Marks and I have. We both belong to the same writing group in the area. And when traveling, we did so together to have company and sometimes to split costs of rooms and fees. Colleagues, that’s the right word to use.

“Not quite up for that.” I didn’t smile. I was not in the habit of encouraging things I didn’t like. Why placate?

“I get it. It takes time. It took me almost a month after my split before I got back in the game.” Phil turned and focused on the security process of the busiest airport in the world.

He did not get it. It was not about recovering from a divorce, it was my not being a party guy. I liked my quiet time, visiting historic places in the cities I traveled to, and taking my notes for future books that might never happen.

Phil wrote books to get one thing, I wrote to get something else. Those two things were about as far from each other as one could get. You could tell from our books’ topics what those reasons for writing were.

Phil passed through and it was my turn.

~*~

“Mom, we’re fine. You enjoy yourself.”

John hugged me and stepped back. “You take care of your sister, understand?” I attempted a stern look. I failed.

“That’s Uncle Drew’s job. I’ve got a game to focus on, not some princess. Ow!”

“Don’t call me princess!” Lena uncurled her fist and hugged me even tighter than her brother had. “I want a T-shirt, okay?”

“I knew there was something behind the ferocity of the hug.” I smiled and looked at the beautiful girl, almost eye to eye with me. A few more months and I would be the shortest in the family.

“No, but a shirt would be cool.”

“I know, dear. Drew, are you certain these two will not be a trouble?”

My younger brother shook his head. “With my brood, who’s going to notice two more?”

“If this had only been next weekend their father would have them and no imposing on you.” There were still a few sorting pains over the managing of situations such as this. The divorce was going along fine, but the little things still popped up that were new and caused brief headaches. Precedents could not be set to undermine the plans put in place. This weekend was my responsibility.

“Just go. You’ll miss your flight.”

Drew and I hugged the quick hug of adult siblings, and with a smile and wave, I turned, pulled my bag behind me, and joined the queue for the security check. My mind went to the sites I wanted to see after landing. Traveling alone had its advantages. There would be no biggest whatever store in the world for me.

I looked up and caught the security people looking at me. Great, I was going to get extra attention, again. And then there were the disadvantages.

~*~

“Mind me taking the window?” Phil sat and stared through the small glass panel.

“No, I’ll most likely take a nap.”

“Awesome, thanks.”

They do not make planes with people my height in mind. Not even seated yet, my knees hinted at not being able to stretch when needed. I glanced up to the other passengers making their way to their seats. Now that, is the height I would like to be for flights.

Dark hair swirled around and I could see the woman’s face. Pretty. I’m glad Phil was looking out the window, I knew what he would say, and I did not want to hear it. She was classy looking, intelligent. Phil would spoil it with some vulgar suggestions.

She glanced up before turning to sit down. A weird feeling went through me.

~*~

Do I know him? He has that look on his face as if he knows me. Something about him is familiar. But I’m mistaken for someone people know all the time. So many Americans cannot tell the difference from one Asian nation to the next. But he does look familiar.

~*~

This is going to drive me insane. Where do I know her from? The headache was beginning. It would be a migraine before New York. Why couldn’t I let mysteries stay mysteries?



My entry for the Friday Fiction with Ronovan Writes Prompt Challenge. Also a continuation of a story begun last week in The Library Date. Also visit Using Proofing To Help Your Fiction Diction & More! for some tips in regards to tools to assist you in improving your writing.



Ronovan Hester is an author, with his debut historical adventure novel Amber Wake: Gabriel Falling due out in December of 2015. He shares his life as an amnesiac and Chronic Pain sufferer through his blog RonovanWrites.WordPress.com. His love of poetry, authors and community through his online world has lead to a growing Weekly Haiku Challenge , a Weekly Fiction Prompt Challenge, and the creation of a site dedicated to book reviews, interviews and author resources known as LitWorldInterviews.com.

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

@RonovanWrites

 © Copyright-All rights reserved by ronovanwrites.wordpress.com 2015

Posted in Flash Fiction, My Friday Fictions

The Library Date

The Library Date: A Flash Fiction Story

“Where you get that weave at?”

“Weave? Girl, you better hush. This ain’t no weave. I am all natural goddess.” I watched the two girls a few tables away. This was not going in a good direction.

“Girl, you the one better hush. Tellin’ me to hush. They got them so tight you can’t even blink. Go ahead and try. That is, if you can stop slappin’ your all ‘natural’ head long enough.”

“OOOOO, that was a burn for sure. She got her good with that one, Mac.”

I stood and put my backpack on my shoulder. “I’m out of here. They’re going to fight and I don’t want to be anywhere near it. Besides, I have a paper to research.”

My Italian-American baseball scholarship best friend wasn’t taking the hint that he should go too. “You go ahead. I’ll record anything that happens and post it. If it’s good, that is.”

“Don’t get caught in the middle of it or coach will eat you alive.”

He glanced away from the girls and up at me. “You worry too much. These are the last years we get to enjoy ourselves before being adults for real. Lighten up man. Find a girl. Go on a date. Kiss her. Do something. All books and no play makes Mac a depressed watch dog of a friend. Besides this is a girl fight. And you know what that means.” He put the sly smile on his face. Why did I choose him as my best friend?

I cast a last look toward the girls and saw the signs a fight was about to happen. Each was standing, had one hand on a hip, the other hand up with a finger working in the face of the other, and the head was going. I’d tried to do the head thing myself, for fun, but it was too painful. Men weren’t supposed to do that. Maybe it had something to do with women and their ability to look after children and families so well. They needed to see in all directions at the same time.

“See you later.” I zipped my jacket and headed away from anxiety central. There was always something going on here.

The air was crisp when I stepped outside the student center. Fall on campus was one of my favorite times. Light filtered through the orange and gold leaves and speckled the ground in front of me. Now where should I go?

I told Tony I needed to research so I could get away from the mayhem, but I did need to get that paper done. I couldn’t afford to burn the one lowest grade drop Dr. Goddard gave us for the semester. With two tests left before finals, I needed to do my best on something I had complete control over, just in case. I did not want to lose my 4.0. That meant, library time, and my date.

An hour passed with my head bent over a book. I loved history, a lot, but I wasn’t sure why I needed to know that old Louis didn’t want to conceive with Marie Antoinette, and her brothers showed up to get him drunk and circumcise him. Okay, so I know why I needed to know, but after almost four years of study, the details were beginning to play on my nerves. But the class was better than the Bosnia & Serbian class last semester. I never wanted to know the exact details of impaling and now I would never forget them. The guy Dracula was based on was one sick puppy.

My neck and back felt the pain of study or maybe I was having a sympathy pain in the neck for old Marie. Rotating my head to relieve some of the pain, a flash of silver caught my attention. The real reason I was in the library sat one table in front of me.

I didn’t know her name, was too scared to ask. She arrived every day at this time, sat at that table, and studied. She was beautiful, brainy, and real. But she was unreal at the same time. The necklace she wore seemed to signal me of her presence every time. I wasn’t even sure how the light reflected off it, but I was happy it did. That reflection had caught my eye that first time last semester.

Her hair was that dark brown so dark it looked black, and she was the most delicate looking creature I’d ever seen. But there was something strong about the look in her eyes as she read, and the way she sat. The way she moved between book and paper and drinking her bottle of water told of her determination and intelligence. I’d never seen her with anything other than water to drink. That must explain her skin.

Her head moved and I looked back down at my book. She almost caught me. My ears were beginning to burn. I hope she didn’t notice. If she did then she would know I had been staring at her.

~*~

Why doesn’t he talk to me? Does he not like me? Is it because I’m not from here? Americans can be so weird sometimes. I’ve been here every day since I saw him that time. Maybe I’m not pretty enough or he thinks I study so much because I’m not smart enough. Couldn’t he just say hello once? It must be warm in here, his neck and face are flushing. He should take that jacket off.

The Library Date: Flash FictionFor my Friday Fiction Prompt Challenge.

(For those who may wonder if I am trying to stereotype people during the beginning exchange, just ask women who have a weave done what happens. They have to have it done tightly so it lasts and you can’t scratch your head at that point so you pat your head to stop it from itching. If looks funny because if you don’t know what’s going on it looks like they are slapping themselves.)



Ronovan Hester is an author, with his debut historical adventure novel Amber Wake: Gabriel Falling due out in December of 2015. He shares his life as an amnesiac and Chronic Pain sufferer through his blog RonovanWrites.WordPress.com. His love of poetry, authors and community through his online world has lead to a growing Weekly Haiku Challenge, a Weekly Friday Fiction Prompt Challenge, and the creation of a site dedicated to book reviews, interviews and author resources known as LitWorldInterviews.com.

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

@RonovanWrites

 © Copyright-All rights reserved by ronovanwrites.wordpress.com 2015

Posted in #BeWoW, My Friday Fictions

Southern Serenade.

Southern Serenade by Ronovan Hester

The hand carved swing was beneath the trees along the back fence line and I let my body and the wood find each other in their common curves, as I knew was the thought behind its creation.

The early fall night was cooler than I had expected, but cooler rather than hot was a good thing. The temperatures were higher than usual for this time of year.

The candle flame wavered slightly on the tree stump used for a table. He’d thought of everything. A lot more of everything than I knew about, even now.

The flame didn’t do much for reading, but that wasn’t why it was here. There was something warm about it. The kind of warm a heart needs, not the flesh. Staring into the flame could help a person get lost for a while. But I had been lost for too long. I was searching. I wanted, I needed to find.

Crickets chirped a Southern serenade. I drifted between their harmonies and the dancing of the flame. If asked I would’ve sworn the swing moved, although I knew it didn’t. At least not by my doing. The flame grew large and then small again, back and forth, with the size changing as if in time with my heartbeat.

A sky filled with dots of dreams and wishes, twinkling their good luck and smiles down on those they were intended for. Those dreams, those wishes burned bright and rained down to a place between the flame and me. The serenade grew louder. One wave after another assaulted my peace.

An ocean roared and waves crashed against the hull chasing the moon. A voice called and I turned. Dark hair moved and sun bronzed cheeks glowed in the moonlight, lips parted an—

“Sis?”

I jerked. Two figures stood over me, each with an arm around the other and looking down at me. “What time is it?”

“About 9:30. We stopped by Mom and Dad’s and got caught up in talk. Sorry we’re late.” Blue eyes of our father searched the eyes I’d inherited from our mother.

“And your mom had lasagna made.” The young woman rubbed the man’s stomach.

“Shh, you weren’t supposed to mention that part.” Mother’s lasagna was his kryptonite.

I smiled up at the miniature version of our father. “You two are lucky you got out of there this early, considering you two were together. Wait until they find out.”

“Well, it was a bit uncomfortable, but they were doing their best to talk about anything and everything other than something.”

My brother and I both looked at my best friend then at each other and then back again. “That was amazing.”

“What?”

“Sis means you just made so much sense while saying so much nonsense. You could be my partner in a law firm one day. ” He leaned down and kissed her the top of her hair. His lips lingered. I could see him inhaling her scent. He had wasted so many years not realizing she had been right in front of him … waiting.

He turned, a grin of joy, a look of bliss on his face. His eyes caught mine and frowned.

“Don’t you dare.” I held up a warning finger. “It’s okay. My turn will be soon enough. I know it. It has to be. After all these years, he can’t give up now.”

“It would take an army to stop him.”

The golden glow of the candle blurred. “But that’s what they have.” Arms wrapped around me and the stirring of the wind blew out the flame. My world plunged into darkness. The stars were dim compared to the heart of the flame. Even when it couldn’t be seen.


 

This is my entry into my first Friday Fiction with Ronovan Writes Prompt Challenge. The story is one you can choose to have it fit in the manner you wish for it to. I hadn’t planned for this to be a Be Writing on Wednesday post but it’s the day I was able to have it ready for.



I don’t write about something unless I am either interested in the subject or am part of the character make up of the cast. For today’s story I looked around and believe I found an appropriate quote.

“What I can say is that all my characters are searching for their souls, because they are my mirrors. I’m someone who is constantly trying to understand my place in the world, and literature is the best way that I found in order to see myself.”~Paulo Coelho
Paulo Coelho Quote of Characters Searching for SoulsVisit SilverThreading.Com for more quotes this week.


 

Ronovan Hester is an author, with his debut historical adventure novel Amber Wake: Gabriel Falling due out in December of 2015. He shares his life as an amnesiac and Chronic Pain sufferer through his blog RonovanWrites.WordPress.com. His love of poetry, authors and community through his online world has lead to a growing Weekly Haiku Challenge and the creation of a site dedicated to book reviews, interviews and author resources known as LitWorldInterviews.com.

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

@RonovanWrites

 © Copyright-All rights reserved by ronovanwrites.wordpress.com 2015