WELCOME TO FRIDAY FICTIONEERS.
As always, writers are encouraged to be as innovative as possible with the prompt and 100 word constraints.
Henry David Thoreau said it best.
“It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.”
😀 Be sure to wish Jackie P and Perry Block a happy birthday this week! They both celebrate Thursday the 12th. 😀
Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end. (No one will be ostracized for going a few words over the count.)
Make every word count.
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- While our name implies “fiction only” it’s perfectly Kosher to write a non-fiction piece as long as it meets the challenge of being a complete story in 100 words.
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Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100
MOTHER OF EXILES
“Rachel, would you please read this sentence for us?” The English teacher’s intense gaze shot through the young woman as she pointed to the page.
This new land with its unfamiliar ways and language challenged her. She’d dreamt of freedom. Instead, New York’s Lower East Side bore much similarity to her poverty-stricken village in Moldavia.
“I try, Miss Lazarus.” Twisting and untwisting her shawl fringes, she read, “‘Ve holt dese troots’…Ikh ken nit…I cannot…”
“‘We hold these truths to be self-evident that all men’…all people…‘are created equal.’” Emma Lazarus took Rachel’s hands in hers. “You can. You will. You must.”
While you may never have heard of Emma Lazarus, if you’re a U. S. citizen you’re probably familiar with, at least, a portion of her poem inside the base of the Statue of Liberty:
THE NEW COLOSSUS
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
To read about this amazing woman click here.
This article is only the tip of the iceberg. If you’re interested do a Google search to learn more. I did. 😉