24 May 2019

Published May 22, 2019 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 © J Hardy Carroll

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Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 100

TOYS, GAMES, AND YO-YO’S

My Chatty Cathy doll said eleven different things, ranging from “Let’s play house” to “I love you.”  Her voice sounded just like Talking Tina of “I’m going to kill you” Twilight Zone Fame. No surprise. Voice actress June Foray spoke for both of them.

However, of all the toys I lost or broke, only one stood up to years of joyful wear and tear.   

I owe it to inventor André Cassagnes, a baker’s son whose allergy to flour caused him to seek employment as an electrician. His creation would go on to become the Etch-A-Sketch.

I still play with it.  

 

***

Portrait of Jan on my Etch-A-Sketch

 

 

17 May 2019

Published May 15, 2019 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

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

HOMMAGE À ALFRED NAKACHE

The guard tossed his dagger into a tank. “Bring this back to me in your teeth, like the Jew dog that you are.”

            Alfred jumped into the fetid water. Diving under, Auschwitz disappeared and he remembered the crowd cheering when he set the world record for the 200 meter breastroke.

            At night he’d lie in his flea-infested bunk and dream of Annie and Paule. Determination to reunite with his wife and daughter gave him the strength to survive the death march to Buchenwald.

            In 1948 Alfred Nakache returned to his passion and went on to become a French national champion.

Alfred Nakache will be inducted into the International Swimming Hall of Fame as a member of the Class of 2019 during the Honoree Induction ceremony in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, May 18, 2019.  For more information about him CLICK HERE

 

Weekend Writing Prompt – DENIAL

Published May 11, 2019 by rochellewisoff

Weekend Writing Prompt #105

A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend.  How you use the prompt is up to you.  Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like.  Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise.  If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in the comments.

Congratulations to Sammi on Year Three of the Weekend Writing Prompt!

“How much do you weigh?” Grace looped her fingers around Elise’s wrist.

“None of your business.” Elise speared a cherry tomato and popped it into her mouth. “There. You happy? I’m eating.”

“Iceberg lettuce. No nutritional value. At least put cheese on that sorry excuse for a salad.”

Terror rose in Elise’s throat. She raised her napkin to her lips and spit out the half-chewed tomato. “I’m not in denial and I don’t have an eating disorder.”

 

10 May 2019

Published May 8, 2019 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Jean L. Hays

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As this post goes live I will be preparing to leave for Israel on a humanitarian trip 😀 So my responses and comments are bound to be slow for the next couple of weeks. 

I’m sure it’s no surprise to anyone that I’m a huge Fiddler on the Roof fan. I suppose it’s because it depicts my heritage in such a lovely way. One of my favorite characters in the iconic movie has always been the Constable portrayed sympathetically by Louis Zourich. So here’s my take on what the Constable might have done after the eviction of the Jews of the fictitious town of Anatevka. You may notice, I gave him a name since he never had one that I’m aware of. 😉

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

SUNRISE, SUNSET

Ivan strolled along the deserted streets of Anatevka.

“What choice did I have?”

He had been a model officer, following orders to the letter.

Men and women, babes in arms, the old and lame—they took what few belongings they had while he made certain the edict was carried out.

Why did there have to be such strife? What made these Jews less human than he? Why shouldn’t Tevye hate him? The dairyman who addressed his poverty with faith and humor had earned Ivan’s undying respect.

He entered the commissioner’s office and laid his badge on the desk. “I resign.”

 

Tevye the dairyman

The Constable

Weekend Writing Prompt – MEANDER

Published May 5, 2019 by rochellewisoff

A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend.  How you use the prompt is up to you.  Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like.  Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise.  If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in the comments.

Thanks to Sammi for the challenge!

Channel swimmer, Gertrude Ederle spoke my truth.

“When we are in the water, we are not in this world.”

Arms gliding and finned feet propelling her forward,

This writer flips and changes directions at pool’s wall

And allows her mind to meander from one story to another.

No plans for the English Channel

3 May 2019

Published May 1, 2019 by rochellewisoff

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As always, please be considerate of your fellow Fictioneers and keep your stories to 100 words. (Title is not included in the word count.)  Many thanks. 

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

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“WE ONLY KILL EACH OTHER”

Eastern European immigrant Max Siegel held his eight-day-old son on his lap on a pillow.

The mohel smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ve clipped dozens of schmeckles.”

Once the deed was done, the rabbi blessed the baby. “We welcome you into the covenant of Avraham on this day, in New York City on the 11th of Adar in the year 5666—March 8, 1906”

The rabbi dropped wine into the squalling child’s mouth. “May you teach the brotherhood of mankind and may the name of Benjamin Siegel be a blessing in the House of Yisroel.”

Max kissed the baby and murmured. “Omayn.”  

Glossary Words:

Mohel – A Jew trained in the practice of brit milah, the “covenant of circumcision.”

Schmeckles – Guess. 😉

Now if you’re still scratching your head and asking yourself why the name Benjamin Siegel should ring a bell:

 

Click to know more about BUGSY SIEGEL

REDEMPTION

Published April 30, 2019 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman travels to Lod, Israel. The town takes its name from the biblical City of Lod, significant Judean town from the Maccabean Period to the early Christian period.

Click on the photo above and feel free to wander around. When you find inspiration, write 150 words on your blog and link it to the other entries via the blue frog below. Remember that reading and commenting is part of the fun!

Do your best and have a good time learning about a new place and the people who may live there.

I am shamefully  shamelessly late for the party this week. It was a crazy busy weekend, but when I saw the location, of course, I couldn’t resist. As always…thanks to Karen and Josh for the challenge that takes us around the globe. 

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

REDEMPTION

I’m Tirzah, a warrior beside Judah Maccabee, the Hammer. We resist the Greeks and we will prevail.

            I’ll never forget the day Antiochus’ men defiled our sacred altar. They sacrificed a pig. Then they slaughtered my baby brother Ezra and forced my mother carry his body, tied around her neck.  I still hear Abba’s tortured cries when they beat him. His blood splattered my face.

            My feet turned to stone until a soldier cast his lethal glare on me. “Pretty little Judean creature.” My gorge rose when he stroked my cheek with his filthy paws. He licked his lips and reached for my breast.

            I spit in his face and ran.

***

Tirzah Rabinovitz skimmed her fingertips across the rough stones of an ancient building in Lod. “1949 in the Promised Land.” She hugged her infant son Ezra. “Antiochus could not destroy us. Nor could that German pig. We will prevail.”

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