6 November 2020

Published November 4, 2020 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

I almost never write sequels to my stories. Although I think this one stands alone, it is, indeed Chapter 2 to last week’s story N2MB3RS. 

I’m blaming it on Na’ama who put the bug in my muse’s ear. Thanks, my friend. 😀

Click me! Click me! 

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100


Bubbie lifted her glass. “Next year in Jerusalem!”  The numbers 45457 on her arm had faded in seventy years but remained legible.

“I bought the tickets.” Beaming, Dad raised his wine. “Jerusalem!”


Miriam shielded her eyes from the noonday sun over the old city. “I wish you were here, Bubbie.”

Miriam remembered her argument with her grandmother over tattoos.

“My friends have them.”

“What do they know?”

Later Bubbie passed away in her sleep.

Miriam went to the tattoo parlor.

The artist frowned. “You sure? ‘45457? Just numbers?”

Back in the present Miriam studied her arm. “I’ll never forget, Bubbie.”


In the States we commemorate 9-11. The Jews commemorate 11-9. November 9 marks the 82nd anniversary of Kristallnacht, Night of Broken Glass. 

68 comments on “6 November 2020

  • Dear Rochelle,
    I’m so glad you wrote this sequel. Miriam’s love of Bubbie brings all the tenderness of memory to life.There’s so much to learn from her about how we cherish those whose love we’ve been given. Mega-kudos for this sweet scene!

    Liked by 1 person

  • A permanent remembrance… awesome, disturbing, worth considering. After my Grandfather’s stories of the war, the atrocities he saw liberating camps… I’ve never EVER considered getting a real tattoo. Yeah, I’ve done the temp ones for halloween, but never serious. It’s too… too… hmm… unsettling a thought. Like pierced ears… a mark of enslavement…. Deep writing this week. I’m wrapped up in Nano. Decided to take today, and was going to write FriFic…hmmm… got spun around at the craft store. I was looking at the Hanukkah display considering picking up a new driedl when a dear one with a slight accent speaks to me. Something about her bearing and the way she spoke, I instantly knew she was Jewish. Wished me an early Hanukkah. I’d already read your story this morning, and looking into her aged face and eyes, I could picture the “Bubbie” in your story. Who could write after that one. 🙂 ❤ Shalom, (ach, I'm hearing the rest of the phrase in my head but can't get it out.) L'Chaim.

    Liked by 1 person

  • Never thought of doing this, but reading about it, I am heartened by the young people taking actions in this way. When Bono introduced, “Helter Skelter” on U2’s live album, “Rattle and Hum,” he said, “This is the song Charles Manson stole from The Beatles. We’re stealing it back.” I cried when I heard Bono say it, and I’m crying right now. Talk about flipping the script!

    Liked by 1 person

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