27 February 2026

Published February 25, 2026 by rochellewisoff

The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

This week’s picture was taken from my back door. In the dark you can make out my deck with it’s white deck lights. Trees are silhouetted against a bright sunset. This was taken in December so there are no leaves on the trees.

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Genre: It’s been one of those weeks.
Words that Don’t Particularly Count: 100

EXPRESSIONLESS

I stare at the screen. I only have a hundred words to write. A complete story—beginning, middle and end. You’d think this would be easy. It’s my stunning sunset picture, after all.

I’m drawing a blank. Hey, Google, where did that expression come from?

“The phrase ‘draw a blank’ dates back to the 16th century in Tudor England when Queen Elizabeth ran a lottery for the people.” One drew either a prize or a blank piece of paper.

Synonyms include zone out, be stumped, come up empty, or be at a loss.

Yep. That’s my story in a nutshell

Occasionally we all draw blanks. Here’s a similar story from September 2022.

No particular reason for this video. I just like it. 😉

20 February 2026

Published February 18, 2026 by rochellewisoff

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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.

PHOTO PROMPT © Lori Wilson

The photo shows a little cafe from the outside. In front of one of the windows is a statue of a chef. There are three narrow picnic tables that look like they’re built into the side of the building. The sign above the roof reads, “Shelly’s Cafe and has the logo for Route 66. Along the roof is red, white and blue bunting, probably for the 4th of July.

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Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

BARBECUE KING

“Ain’t nothin’ better than this, son.” Mr. Perry turned a slab of ribs. “Hickory wood’s the secret.”

Seven-year-old Henry breathed in the smokey aroma.

At fifteen Henry left Tennessee to work on the steamboats traveling the Mississippi River. After hours bent over flames and smoke, he’d stand on the deck, dreaming of the future.

“Daddy was right,” he said years later as patrons lined up between 18^th Street and Vine to enjoy hot smoked meat wrapped in newsprint for twenty-five cents.

Barbecue’s up to date in Kansas City. I owe Henry Perry a debt of gratitude.

Please pass the sauce.

I can’t deny it. I’m a Kansas City girl and BBQ is in my top ten favorite foods. Of course there are the ongoing debates as to which establishment does it best. I do have my favorites. 😉

A few years ago I was told by a pitmaster in Alabama who learned from a KC pitmaster, “If there ain’t no smoke, it’s a joke. If there ain’t no wood, it ain’t no good.” (Perhaps it came down from Henry Perry.)

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13 February 2026

Published February 11, 2026 by rochellewisoff

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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.

PHOTO PROMPT © David Stewart

This week’s photo is of a long sidewalk. One woman is walking along it. There’s a wall to right with a wrought iron fence and greenery peaking through. To the other side of the sidewalk is a row of trees and a street beside it.

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Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

DIGNITY OVER FEAR

“What if someone had found out?” Sarah held her daughter tightly in her arms. “What were you thinking?”

Rabbi Aharon Neuwirth scowled. “Obviously our child wasn’t thinking at all.”

As she pulled away, Yocheved’s blue eyes spilled over. She smiled and pushed back a lock of blonde hair. “I wanted to see the opening ceremony. All those athletes from all over the world. Besides, they thought I was just another Arian girl. But…”

“But what?” asked the rabbi.

“They gave me flowers to present to—him. I-I couldn’t. Oh, Mama. Papa. I’ve looked into the eyes of der Teufel himself.”

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6 February 2026

Published February 4, 2026 by rochellewisoff

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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.

PHOTO PROMPT © Jennifer Pendergast

In this week’s photo we’re on a landing looking down a flight of stairs between two brick walls. At the bottom of the steps is a sidewalk, a street and beyond that a parking lot with cars. It’s snowing and between the walls an evergreen Christmas oranamet topped with snow.

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Genre: Memoire
Word Count: 100

HONEYMOON SUITE

“The rent is $85.00 a month,” said the landlady, cuddling her yappy Schnauzer. “No pets allowed.”

The third-floor, four-room walkup was our first home together and a few blocks away from my school, the Kansa City Art Institute. Not to mention, the price was right for poverty-stricken newlyweds.

A green Naugahyde sofa between two barrels graced our not-so-great-room.

Our little hide-away, pet mouse, contraband puppy, and all.

The thin walls must have been constructed of foam core board, masking tape, and spit wads. We heard every clever word our next-door neighbors uttered such as, “Oh wow, man! What a rush!”

30 January 2026

Published January 28, 2026 by rochellewisoff

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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

The photo today is of a very colorful three-tiered birthday cake. Lots of swirls, psychedelic flowers, and peace signs. It’s on a turntable. You can see a grocery store in the background and order tickets just behind the cake.

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Genre: Hysterical Non-Fiction
Word Count: 100

SWEET REVENGE

When I was a cake decorator in a supermarket, one of our managers, Dan, loved to sneak up on others to startle the you-know-what out of them. One evening he’d caught me off-guard once too often. On my break I went out to the parking lot to even the score.

The next day his assistant informed me that Dan ruined his white shirt by wiping icing off his hands in the dark.

“You’re in big trouble.”

About that time my store director approached me. “Did you really squirt royal blue icing under Dan’s door handle?”

“Y-yes.”

He grinned. “Good job!”

23 January 2026

Published January 21, 2026 by rochellewisoff

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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

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Genre: Memoir
Word Count: 100

ALL RIDES 9¢

On the corner of 84^th and Wornall is a grocery where once stood a 5-acre park called Kiddie Land—a grand place for Mom to drop us off while she shopped, unfettered by squabbling children.

“I want to drive the old-time cars,” I said.

“Ferris wheel first,” said my older brother Jeff. “Then we’ll ride your stupid cars.”

“They’re not stupid.”

“Are too.”

Terrified of heights, I screamed throughout the entire ride. “I’m telling Mommy you’re mean.”

Afterward I slipped into the antique car seat with a smug smile as Jeff handed me a quarter to keep my mouth shut.

It seems that just about every American city in the late 1950’s to early 60’s had an amusement park called Kiddie Land. This particular one was in Kansas City. One of my fonder childhood memories. 😀

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The Wisoff kiddies. © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

16 January 2026

Published January 14, 2026 by rochellewisoff

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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.

PHOTO PROMPT © Jennifer Pendergast

The photo appears to be looking up at a cathedral ceiling with inset stained glass windows. Below the windows looks like a walkway with arched openings.

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Genre: Sorta Fiction
Word Count: 100

BETH ISRAEL

Millie can never forget the ground rumbling or the sound of the shattering glass. She was only five the day someone bombed the temple. Two months later someone, who turned out to be the KKK, bombed Rabbi Nussbaum’s home.

“Why’d they do that? I don’t understand.”

“May you never understand, Millie-Nillie.” Daddy read from the book of Isaiah. “‘When you walk through the fire you will not burn.’”

Fifty-eight years later, Millie watches the horrifying newscast. Photos of scorched Torah scrolls appear on the screen. She murmurs in agreement with the temple president, “This won’t stop anything. We will rebuild.”

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9 January 2026

Published January 7, 2026 by rochellewisoff

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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.

This week’s photo is a frozen garden pond. Ice has encrusted dormant plants under a protective mesh covering. There is a stone walk around the pond.

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Genre: Hysterical Non-Fiction
Word Count: 100

MOTHER NATURE’S MASTERPIECE

One year for Valentine’s Day my husband gifted me with an orchid. Something different, he said. Truly I was thrilled. A gorgeous phalaenopsis with purple veins.

I researched the care and feeding of my lovely acquisition.

Some online plant enthusiasts swore by putting ice cubes in the pot and letting them melt rather than straightforward watering.

I bought orchid food.

By April, the petals had fallen and the leaves drooped like something in a Salvador Dali painting. I agonized over what I had done wrong.

Long story short, I’m death to plant-life. No doubt I could kill a silk orchid.

“The Persistence of Memory” by Salvador Dali

“Stargazer Lilies” by Yours Truly (not orchids 😉 )

*I can paint them, but don’t ask me to grow them. 😀

2 January 2026

Published December 31, 2025 by rochellewisoff

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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.

This week’s prompt is of a small building which looks to be a park information center. It has windows and a door and box holding information flyers.

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Genre: Non-Fiction
Word Count: 100

MY NAME IS BETTY

How does one distill a life that lasted 104 years down to one-hundred words?

Betty Reid Soskin had been a singer, a civil rights activist, a wife, a mother and, in her later years, a park ranger at Rosie the Riveter/WWII Home Front National Historical Park. There, she led tours and shared American history. She retired at the age of 100.

Toward the end of one interview, she was invited to say whatever came to mind.

The soft-spoken, 101-year-old woman looked into the camera and said, “I don’t know what comes next, but I do know I’m ready for it.”

Betty passed away December 21 at the age of 104. Here’s one of her interviews. She was one amazing woman.

26 December 2025

Published December 24, 2025 by rochellewisoff

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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.

In the photo we see a dining room, lit by candlelight and a hanging fixture with a glass star hanging from it. There’s a mirror on the wall. In it is a reflection of a curio shelf in the living room. There’s a hint of the front door in the sunken living room. We are actually looking at all of this reflected in sliding glass doors. Outside you can see the deck lights and LED lit windchimes that are winged pigs.

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Genre: Fiction
Word Count: 100

WHETHER PIGS HAVE WINGS

“Have you finished your paper on idioms and sayings?” Rosey shut her laptop with a satisfied smile. “Mine’s done.”

“Cakes get done. People get finished.” Jeff sailed a paper airplane across the room. “And I’ll finish mine when pigs fly.”

“You know that pig saying originated in the early 1600’s.”

“Okay, Missy-Know-It-All, did you know that a pilot, JTC Moore-Brabazon proved pigs could fly on 4 November 1909.”

“Oh? Did it sprout wings?”

“Not exactly.” Jeff grinned. “Mr. Moore-Brabazon put a pig in a wicker basket, tied it to the strut of his bi-plane, then flew 3.5 miles. Homework complete.”