17 April 2026

Published April 15, 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 © Ted Strutz

The photo is a photo of a man taking a photo with his camera of a fruit plate, a cup of coffee, and a glass of orange juice. Behind the food and drinks is an iPad with a black and white photo of a man painting.

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Genre: Realistic Fiction
Word Count: 100

FROM GENERATION TO GENERATION

“Shall I tell you a bedtime story?” Barbara tucked the covers around her granddaughter.

Six-year-old Naomi wrapped her arm around her plush pig pillow. “It’s okay I have a story app.”

Barbara gritted her teeth. “Feh on story apps.”

Shutting her eyes, the child grinned. “Bubbie stories are better.”

“Once upon a time, when I was your age, people only used their telephones to talk to people. No texting. No cameras to take pictures of everything we ate.”

Naomi opened her eyes wide. “Gosh Bubbie, you really lived in olden times.”

“It’s true. We didn’t even have a color television.”

10 April 2026

Published April 8, 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 is a seascape. On the beach some seagulls are resting. A sailboat with a brightly colored sail is on the water. The sky is overcast.

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Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

THE FROZEN SEA WITHIN US

Shadow monsters chased Franz. Twisted trees and thorny brambles caught his clothes. He snapped open his eyes.

The wind howled outside, sounding like shouts of tyrants and wails of children.

“Mother! Father! Help!” He cried out. “A drink please! I’m so thirsty.”

Father loomed over him.

Instead of water or the comforting words the child longed for, Father carried him to the balcony. “Never disturb my sleep again, you little insect.” The door locked behind him.

Frigid wind whipped through the boy’s thin nightgown. For the rest of his all-too-brief life, Franz Kafka despaired of ever winning his father’s love.

“A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us.”
― Franz Kafka

If you have ten minutes to spare CLICK to know more about him.

3 April 2026

Published April 1, 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 © Roger Bultot

In this week’s photo we see the top of some sort of wooden cabinet. On top of it is a rust colored bucket with a handle close to the top rim. There are other objects next to it but I can’t tell what they are.

NOTE: To those who enjoy snapping photos, particularly unusual ones, I am currently looking for potential photo prompts. You can send them to me at runtshell@gmail.com. Thank you.

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Genre: Fiction
Word Count: 100

TAILFIN ROAD LOCOMOTIVE

“GG why don’t you get rid of this old rust bucket,” asked twelve-year-old Amy. “Grandma says it’s held together with duct tape and prayers.”

Wind ruffled Greg’s silver-white ponytail through the open window. Fuzzy yellow dice dangled from the rearview mirror. It was true. His 1957 Chevy had long since outlived its life expectancy.

“I can’t get rid of Josephine. My folks gave her to me as a graduation present in 1971. If she could talk, what tales Josephine would tell. In fact, Amy, dear, you might not be here today had it not been for this old rust bucket.”

27 March 2026

Published March 25, 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 © Sandra Crook

The photo looks to be a lattice or wooden fence covered with spider webs and vines. From the way the photo is framed it almost appears to be a window. Through the openings we see green grass, a tree, and the sky. The webs are so thick they look like they’re made from yarn of thick thread.

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Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

A CANTERBURY TALE

A rock shattered the window. Heart thumping, Prudence picked it up and placed it on the mantel like a trophy. “I’ll not back down.”

She read her advertisement in the April 1833 edition of “The Liberator.”

“…the first Monday of April next, her school will be opened for the reception of young Ladies and Little Misses of Color…”

She recalled the angry white townsmen who had recently banged on her door spewing their heated displeasure.

“Such a boarding school will lead to intermarriage,” they claimed.

Prudence Crandall stiffened her back, glared at them, and said, “Moses had a black wife.”

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It doesn’t exactly go with the story, but it kept playing in my head, and just seems to fit. 🙂

20 March 2026

Published March 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 © Dale Rogerson

The prompt this week is on the side of a road. To the left there’s a line of parked cars. It looks like the photo was snapped in autumn as there are fallen leaves along the curb. The foliage in the picture is still pretty green so it’s probably not late fall. In the foreground is a road sign with arrows, one black one pointing down and a curved red arrow pointing up. There’s a yield sign icon at top right of the sign. (I’m confused 😉 )

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Genre: Questonable
Word Count: 100

Apologies to those whose first language is not English.

WAR OF THE WORDS

Rochelle buried her throbbing head in her hands. “I can’t take it anymore. Don’t they see the error in sentences like these—Joe and me had a great time today in the park. Or Mary laughed at Joe and I.”

“It’s not rocket science.” Dale sighed. “What’s left if you take out ‘Joe and’? ‘Me had a great time today at the park?’ Or ‘Mary laughed at I. Ridonkulous!’”

A sympathetic passerby chimed in. “When’d it all went in the wrong direction? If we applied those rules we learned in elementary school things would go much more smoother, wouldn’t they?

Grammar Police: To Serve and Correct

I hope the video made you laugh. If not, I apologize.

13 March 2026

Published March 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 © Lisa Fox

This week’s photo has us inside what appears to be an art gallery with blue walls. Hanging from a square light fixture are red and golden ornaments. There are canvasses on the blue wall. One painting is of a floral arrangement. To the left there’s another section with red wall.

Click the artistic frog to join. (Thanks, Keith)

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100 (Not counting the lengthy title 😉 )

“MY ILLUSTRIOUS LORDSHIP, I’LL SHOW YOU WHAT A WOMAN CAN DO”

With pigment-stained hands, her revered mentor seized her breast. “You have a gift, child.”

Seventeen-year-old Artemisia clawed his cheek and writhed to escape his grasp.

His relentless laughter echoed in her ears as he thrust himself into her. Despite her anguished cries, no one rescued her.

***

The gallery guide points out the drama in Artemisia Gentileschi’s vibrant paintings depicting strong women. In her second rendering of “Judith Beheading Holofernes” the red-hot intensity on the heroine’s face is palpable.

Did Artemisia pay back her assailant on canvas?

Agostino Tassi may have stolen the flower of her youth, but not her gift.

The title is a quote from the artist. Apropo, dontcha think? 😉

*Vindication on Canvas*

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6 March 2026

Published March 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.

The photo shows a cafe behind glass which appears to be on the ground floor of a large building. . There are tables, chairs, and people in the cafe. Skyscrapers are reflected in the glass.

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Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

AMERICAN PIE

Exhausted after a day of household duties, Amelia gathered her receipts. Quill in hand, she squinted at the parchment in the candlelight. “This new world needs its own receipt book. I shall entitle mine ‘American Cookery.’”

She wrote and whispered, “2 pounds citron, currants, and raisins…”

***

“Do you suppose this café serves independence cake?” Elise thumbed through her newly acquired slice of history.

Brandy cast a puzzled glance at the book. “What’s that?”

“First American cookbook. Published by a woman named Amelia Simmons in 1796. I found this facsimile on Amazon.”

“Why have I never heard of her?”

“Good question.”

Little is known about Amelia Simmons.

27 February 2026

Published February 25, 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 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.

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.

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.”