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All posts for the month January, 2013

1 February 2013

Published January 30, 2013 by rochellewisoff

WELCOME TO FRIDAY FICTIONEERS!

We are a growing community of blogging writers who come together each week from all parts of the globe to share individual flash fictions from a single photo prompt. The prompt goes up early Wednesday morning  CST to give each writer time to compose a story by Friday. Some use the photo as a mere inspiration while others use it as an illustration. Use your imagination and think outside the box.

WARNING! This is an addiction for which there is no 12 step recovery program.

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THE CHALLENGE:

Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end. (No one will be ostracized for going over or under the word count.)

THE KEY:

Make every word count.

THE RULES:

  • Copy your URL to the Linkz collection. You’ll find the tab following the photo prompt. It’s the little white box to the left with the blue froggy guy. Click on it and follow directions. This is the best way to get the most reads and comments.
  • MAKE SURE YOUR LINK  IS SPECIFIC TO YOUR FLASH FICTION. (Should you find that you’ve made an error you can delete by clicking the little red ‘x’ that should appear under your icon. Then re-enter your URL. (If there’s no red x email me at Runtshell@aol.com. I can delete the wrong link for you).Thanks to Blogspot bloggers for disabling their  CAPTCHAs.  
  • Make note in your blog if you’d prefer not to have constructive criticism. 
  • REMINDER:
  • This page is “FRIDAY FICTIONEERS CENTRAL” and is NOT the place to promote political or religious views. Also, you are responsible for the content of your story and policing comments on your blog. You have the right to delete any you consider offensive.  

**Please exercise DISCRETION  when commenting on a story! Be RESPECTFUL.**

Should someone have severe or hostile differences of opinion with another person it’s my hope that the involved parties would settle their disputes in private. 

***************

🙂 My story follows the prompt for those who might be distracted by reading a story before writing their own . I relish your comments. 🙂

/copyright-Claire Fuller

Copyright-Claire Fuller

The prompt this week comes twice from Claire Fuller; both photo and artwork.




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*Genre-Literary Fiction*

PAVOR NOCTURNUS

            “It takes time to recover from major surgery,” said Jill’s doctor. “Your body suffered trauma. I suspect the nightmares will stop soon.”

            “Thanks…for nothing.” She slammed down the phone. “What’s it to him?  He’s not the one afraid to sleep.”

            “Honey, you need your rest.” Tom slipped in beside her and shut off the light.

            Her attempts to stay awake failed. The bedroom faded. A two-headed monster with razor-sharp fangs in each mouth seized her shoulders. She struggled against its iron-grip.

            “Jill! Wake up!”

           Drenched and shivering, she opened her eyes and groaned.  “Not again.”

            “Yep. The twins are hungry.” 

And just for fun or if you’re having trouble getting to sleep click here. 

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shhhhhhh!

Twins

25 January 2013

Published January 23, 2013 by rochellewisoff

You’re calling from WHERE???image Sorry…wrong number!

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LOOKING FOR FRIDAY FICTIONEERS? YOU’RE IN THE WRITE PLACE!

We are a growing community of blogging writers who come together each week from all parts of the globe to share individual flash fictions from a single photo prompt. The prompt goes up early Wednesday morning  CST to give each writer time to compose a story by Friday. Some use the photo as a mere inspiration while others use it as an illustration. Use your imagination and think outside the box.

WARNING! This is an addiction for which there is no 12 step recovery program.

Like us on Facebook

THE CHALLENGE:

Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end. (No one will be ostracized for going over or under the word count.)

THE KEY:

Make every word count.

THE RULES:

  • Copy your URL to the Linkz collection. You’ll find the tab following the photo prompt. It’s the little white box to the left with the blue froggy guy. Click on it and follow directions. This is the best way to get the most reads and comments.
  • MAKE SURE YOUR LINK  IS SPECIFIC TO YOUR FLASH FICTION. (Should you find that you’ve made an error you can delete by clicking the little red ‘x’ that should appear under your icon. Then re-enter your URL. (If there’s no red x email me at Runtshell@aol.com. I can delete the wrong link for you).Thanks to Blogspot bloggers for disabling their  CAPTCHAs.  
  • Make note in your blog if you’d prefer not to have constructive criticism.
  • ***************
  • THIS PAGE  IS “FRIDAY FICTIONEERS CENTRAL” AND IS NOT  THE PLACE TO PROMOTE POLITICAL OR RELIGIOUS VIEWS.  

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOUR STORY AND POLICING  COMMENTS. YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO DELETE  THE ONES YOU CONSIDER OFFENSIVE.  

  PLEASE EXERCISE DISCRETION  WHEN COMMENTING ON A STORY! BE RESPECTFUL.

SHOULD SOMEONE HAVE SEVERE OR HOSTILE DIFFERENCES OF OPINION WITH ANOTHER PERSON IT’S MY HOPE THAT THE INVOLVED PARTIES WOULD TAKE IT TO EMAIL OR ANOTHER METHOD OF PRIVATE MESSAGING.

***************

This week’s PHOTO PROMPT is from Renee Heath. A pleasant picture for those of us in cold winter climates.

Copyright-Renee Homan Heath

Copyright-Renee Homan Heath


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*Genre: Historical Fiction*

PENANCE

                                                3 December in the year of our Lord 1765

Dearest Catherine,

            It is with deep regret I write that I shan’t return to England. I cannot for I would not have you plight your troth to a murderer.

            Now I must remain to make amends.  

            At the first the savage misliked me and I feared him. But over time we became friends. Together we laughed and fished the Seminole way.

            Surely these people threaten us with war. Yet it was neither my musket nor my dagger that felled my warrior brother, but my white man’s curse—smallpox. 

            Penitently yours,

                        Jonathan 

STORY REVISITED

Published January 20, 2013 by rochellewisoff

One of the things I love about writing is the process of finding my way to the finished product. At times it’s as hard as trying to bend iron with my bare hands. (Nope probably will never master that.) It’s a wrestling match with words. 

May 18,2012. when I was one of the new Friday Fictioneers on the block, I wrote my 6th flash fiction, MIRACLE. I was still pretty green when it came to writing a short-short with a beginning, middle and end.  Some of you may remember this picture and have your own stories to go with it.

MIRACLE
MIRACLE 

Merciless rain pelted the Conestoga’s canvas roof. Tildy’s stomach swelled and roiled with each pitch and sway.

Three-year-old Jonas whimpered in her arms. Like periwinkle marbles, his eyes rolled in aimless delirium. She almost welcomed his fevered warmth in the penetrating damp.

The wagon lurched and stopped. Smelling of horses, leather and wet denim Noel slipped through the narrow opening. In silence, his vigilant eyes on his son, he nestled under the blanket beside her.

Tildy woke to hushed sunlight. Her baby was gone.

Outside, naked as dawn, Jonas hopped and pointed at the rainbow. “Ma! Pa! Angels came!”

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Why rewrite?

Most of the comments were favorable and polite. But some of them have niggled at me for months:

“Dear Rochelle,

This was hard to work out and being the first to comment (I think) I don’t have the crutch of other’s opinions to help me out. When Jonas says the angels have come, was it that they’d come for anyone specific? Or just touched the earth and left their heavenly colored trails as a sign. Did Jonas’ fever break? No one died, did they?A lovely story, full of imagination and pathos. I loved the ‘Periwinkle marbles’. Great stuff.

Aloha,Doug”

And this one:

“Am I so wrong in hoping that he was actually still alive and just telling them excitedly of his fever-induced dream? My fingers are crossed.Poignant and sad.”

And another:

“I honestly thought that her baby had died (“gone”) and that he was dancing with the angels.”

By the end of the comment thread I’d recapped and explained at least five times. So to my obsessive perfectionist’s mind this is unacceptable. 

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MIRACLE

Merciless rain pelted the Conestoga’s canvas roof. Tildy’s stomach roiled with each pitch and sway.  

Three-year-old Jonas whimpered in her arms. Like periwinkle marbles, his eyes rolled in aimless delirium. She almost welcomed his fevered warmth in the penetrating damp.

The wagon lurched and stopped. Smelling of horses, leather and wet denim Noel slipped through the narrow opening. His vigilant eyes on his son, he nestled under the blanket beside her.

…….

Tildy woke to hushed sunlight and empty arms. She bolted upright and searched.

Outside, naked as dawn, Jonas skipped and pointed at a rainbow.  “Ma! Pa! Angels came!”  

18 January 2013

Published January 16, 2013 by rochellewisoff

WELCOME TO FRIDAY FICTIONEERS

 

We are a growing community of blogging writers who come together each week from all parts of the globe to share individual flash fictions from a single photo prompt. The prompt goes up early Wednesday morning  CST to give each writer time to compose a story by Friday. Some use the photo as a mere inspiration while others use it as an illustration. Use your imagination and think outside the box.

WARNING! This is an addiction for which there is no 12 step recovery program.

THE CHALLENGE:

Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end. (No one will be ostracized for going over or under the word count.)

THE KEY:

Make every word count.

THE RULES:

  • Copy your URL to the Linkz collection. You’ll find the tab following the photo prompt. It’s the little white box to the left with the blue froggy guy. Click on it and follow directions. This is the best way to get the most reads and comments.
  • MAKE SURE YOUR LINK  IS SPECIFIC TO YOUR FLASH FICTION. 
    • Make note in your blog if you’d prefer not to have constructive criticism.

EXERCISE DISCRETION AT ALL TIMES WHEN COMMENTING ON A STORY! BE RESPECTFUL. THIS IS NOT  THE TIME OR PLACE PLACE TO PROMOTE POLITICAL OR RELIGIOUS VIEWS.  IF YOU HAVE SEVERE OR HOSTILE DIFFERENCES OF OPINION WITH ANOTHER PERSON PLEASE TAKE IT TO EMAIL OR ANOTHER METHOD OF PRIVATE MESSAGING.

Should you find that you’ve made an error you can delete by clicking the little red ‘x’ that should appear under your icon. Then re-enter your URL. (If there’s no red x email me at Runtshell@aol.com. I can delete the wrong link for you).

Thanks to Blogspot bloggers for disabling their  CAPTCHAs

The photo this week is mine. It’s a still life of “stuff” that I used as a model for a watercolor which is the book cover of my short story anthology, THIS, THAT AND SOMETIMES THE OTHER that debuted in November 2011. You can find it in the right hand margin of this blog. 😉 In any case I’m interested to  see how many stories it will inspire this week. 

Copyright-Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Copyright-Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

 



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This week my story is not so much fiction as autobiography.  My maternal grandfather came to America in 1903, as my mom was fond of saying, with nothing but the clothes on his back. After coming through Ellis Island, he slept under park benches in Central Park and eventually hitchhiked to the Midwest. At least this is the story I’ve gleaned from my mother and cousins.  Grandpa wasn’t a warm fuzzy person and it’s only been the past few years through research for my novel that takes place in turn of the 20th century Eastern Europe that I’ve drawn some conclusions. They may or may not be accurate but I’ll never know because I was too afraid of him to ask. 

Click here to learn about the world from which my ancestors escaped.  

Genre: Memoir

SUNRISE, SUNSET

   Every Sunday my mother dragged me to my grandfather’s house. She said I should get to know him, learn from him. After all he’d survived Russia’s pogroms. My family history.

            But I asked no questions. He offered no stories.

            One week mom took a vinyl copy of Fiddler on the Roof for him to hear. His timeworn torso sank into his recliner as he listened to Tevye the milkman sing.

            “If I were a rich man, yaba-deebee-deebee-bum.”

            Forty years later I still remember how my austere grandfather’s granite-hard eyes transformed to liquid quartz.  

            “My father sang…just like that.” 

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The dark side of Fiddler on the Roof

The dark side of Fiddler on the Roof

 

11 January 2013

Published January 9, 2013 by rochellewisoff

WELCOME TO FRIDAY FICTIONEERS WHERE EVERY PICTURE TELLS A STORY

 

We are a growing community of blogging writers who come together each week from all parts of the globe to share individual flash fictions from a single photo prompt. The prompt goes up early Wednesday morning  CST to give each writer time to compose a story by Friday. Some use the photo as a mere inspiration while others use it as an illustration. Use your imagination and think outside the box.

WARNING! This is an addiction for which there is no 12 step recovery program.

THE CHALLENGE:

Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end. (No one will be ostracized for going over or under the word count.)

THE KEY:

Make every word count.

THE RULES:

      • Copy your URL to the Linkz collection. You’ll find the tab following the photo prompt. It’s the little white box to the left with the blue froggy guy. Click on it and follow directions. This is the best way to get the most reads and comments.
      • MAKE SURE YOUR LINK  IS SPECIFIC TO YOUR FLASH FICTION. 

If your link is to an advertisement or any type of platform, be it religious or political, it will be deleted.

Should you find that you’ve made an error you can delete by clicking the little red ‘x’ that should appear under your icon. Then re-enter your URL. (If there’s no red x email me at Runtshell@aol.com. I can delete the wrong link for you).

If your blog requires multiple steps for visitors to leave comments, see if you can simplify it.  Please, for the sake or our writerly nerves, disable CAPTCHA –that wavy line of unreadable letters and numbers. This mainly applies to Blogspot.  It’s frustrating to have to leave a DNA sample, your blood type and your shoe size  just to make a comment. (So I exaggerate. But hopefully you get the picture).

  • Make note in your blog if you’d prefer not to have constructive criticism.

EXERCISE DISCRETION AT ALL TIMES WHEN COMMENTING ON A STORY! BE RESPECTFUL. THIS IS NOT  THE TIME OR PLACE PLACE TO PROMOTE POLITICAL OR RELIGIOUS VIEWS.  IF YOU HAVE SEVERE OR HOSTILE DIFFERENCES OF OPINION WITH ANOTHER PERSON PLEASE TAKE IT TO EMAIL OR ANOTHER METHOD OF PRIVATE MESSAGING.

Thanks to Roger Cohen for the photo and a bit of education. 😉

Copyright-Roger Cohen

Copyright-Roger Cohen




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ANDANTE

Genre: Historical Fiction

“These are days when many are discouraged. In the 93 years of my life, depressions have come and gone. Prosperity has always returned and will again.”– John D. Rockefeller 

October 29, 1929 was known as Black Tuesday. It was the day the stock market crashed and ushered in the 10 years known as the Great Depression.  

Click here for the music that served as inspiration for this story. 

On Black Tuesday Pop lost his Wall Street job.

Destitute, he sold everything except Mom’s prized vase and his bass violin.

One afternoon, drawn by phonograph music, I wandered into his room.  Hunched over, he held a gun to his temple.

“No Pop!” I knocked it from his grasp.

It discharged. The bullet ricocheted off the wall, just missed my forehead and shattered Mom’s vase.

 “My God!” He crushed me against his chest.

…………..

           From 1931 to 1962 Pop toured the Borscht Belt with a swing band. His zest for life was contagious.

Incidentally, Mom never mentioned her vase.

To read about the Borscht Belt click here.

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.Black Tuesday

4 January 2013

Published January 2, 2013 by rochellewisoff

HAPPY NEW YEAR and LET THE GAMES BEGIN!!!

WELCOME TO FRIDAY FICTIONEERS

If you’re looking for a good time with interesting people you’ve come to the write place. 😉

  We are a growing community of blogging writers who come together each week from all parts of the globe to share individual flash fictions from a single photo prompt. The prompt goes up early Wednesday morning  CST to give each writer time to compose a story by Friday. Some use the photo as a mere inspiration while others use it as an illustration. Use your imagination and think outside the box.

WARNING! This is an addiction for which there is no 12 step recovery program.

THE CHALLENGE:

Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end. (No one will be ostracized for going over or under the word count.)

THE KEY:

Make every word count.

THE RULES:

  • Please copy your URL to the Linkz collection. You’ll find the tab following the photo prompt. It’s the little white box to the left with the blue froggy guy. Click on it and follow directions. This is the best way to get the most reads and comments. PLEASE BE CERTAIN YOUR LINK  IS SPECIFIC TO YOUR FLASH FICTION. 
  • Please make sure your link works. If you find that you’ve made an error you can delete by clicking the little red ‘x’ that should appear under your icon. Then re-enter your URL. (If there’s no red x email me at Runtshell@aol.com. I can delete the wrong link for you).
  • If your blog requires multiple steps for visitors to leave comments, see if you can simplify it.  Please, for the sake or our writerly nerves, disable CAPTCHA –that wavy line of unreadable letters and numbers. This mainly applies to Blogspot.  It’s frustrating to have to leave a DNA sample, your blood type and your shoe size  just to make a comment. (So I exaggerate. But hopefully you get the picture).
  • Make note in your blog if you’d prefer not to have constructive criticism.
  • *NOTE-If your link is to an advertisement or any type of platform (be it religious or political) it will be deleted.  And on that note:

  • TALK ABOUT CHANGING HORSES IN MID-STREAM
  • For those of you who have a problem with labeling your story with genre for whatever reason, fret no more! While there was a good reason for it, it appears the cons far outweigh the pros. I maintain that it’s a good idea to know your genre for professional purposes. But for Friday Fictioneers purposes and my own precarious sanity we’ll let it go. PLEASE exercise  discretion when commenting  on someone’s story and blog. Keep the comments respectful and kind. This is not the place to promote political or religious views. If you have a severe  or hostile difference of opinion with someone please take it to email or other method of private messaging.
  • Thank you for your patience and support as I learn to steer the bus.
  • ***My story will follow the photo prompt for those who would rather write before reading other stories. Like everyone else, I value your comments and critiques. 😉 ***

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

Atiya Townes -January 3

David Stewart -January 4

Erin Leary-January 10

(Let me know if you have a birthday this month.)

This week’s photo prompt from Lora Mitchell seems to be just the right one to launch the new year.

Copyright - Lora Mitchell
Copyright – Lora Mitchell


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…………………….

Genre: Historical Fiction

During China’s Song Dynasty (970 – 1260), seen as property,  a woman’s sole purpose was to please her husband.  Officially sanctioned, foot-binding became the essence of feminine beauty. The smaller a woman’s foot, the better her chances of marrying well. The practice continued into the 20th century until China came under Communist rule. To read more on the subject, click here.

GOLDEN LOTUS

             With highly prized feet that fit a man’s palm, bones bound and crushed in childhood, Zhen Xi’s youthful beauty caught wizened warlord Han Donhai’s eye.

            Every night she endured the beatings that followed his inadequacy. She feared he’d too soon discover her secret and she’d suffer the same fate as three past wives who died under his sword for failure to conceive.

            Seven months after the wedding, fireworks spangled the sky in celebration of Donhai’s nine pound heir.

            Hours later his blade flashed above her.

            “You faithless whore!”                      

            She smiled. Her child would live while her unbound spirit ran free. 

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.Chinese girl with bound feet

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