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World Travelers: Friday Fictioneers

Published July 18, 2014 by rochellewisoff

Every week at least one hundred global writers shorten the distance by sharing  their flash fictions based on a single photo prompt. I have the honor and privilege of  hosting the Friday Fictioneers challenge created by Madison Woods three years ago. I’ll probably never meet each one face to face, although I’ve been able to meet up with a few.

This past week, Friday Fictioneers Bill and Janet Webb had lunch Sandra Crook and her husband Neville on their boat in France.

The Crooks and the Webbs

From left to right: Neville and Sandra Crook, Janet and Bill Webb (who resembles neither zombie nor zed).

Also among our world travelers is Dawn Landau who lives in Washington state met with fellow fictioneer Björn Rudberg for lunch in Stockholm.

Dawn and Björn

I love putting more than faces to names, don’t you?

When Friday Fictioneers Meet

Published November 21, 2013 by rochellewisoff

HEY YOU GUYS!

If you came here expecting a 100 word flash fiction, you might be disappointed. While I realize I’m breaking my own rule by linking something other than a short story I thought this post would be of interest to Friday Fictioneers. It may not be a short story, but as you can see there is a short facilitator. 

Friday, November 15, 2013 at Ye Olde English Inn in Branson, MO, the entertainment capitol of the Midwest eight of the, sometimes, over one hundred writers met face to face and person person. photo_1From left to right: Beth Carter, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, Madison Woods, Janet Webb, Karen Nelson, Russell Gayer, Jan Morrill and Kent Bonham.

photo_3Some of you may remember K.D. McCrite who wrote for Friday Fictioneers until success as an author has whisked her from our midst. She was the speaker for our morning session. She left us without excuses. 😉

photo_3 (1)

LIGHTS! CAMERA! ACTION!

FRIDAY’S BUS

Published October 18, 2012 by rochellewisoff

It’s with mixed emotions I post my story inspired by Ron Pruitt’s photo prompt. This is Madison’s last week as Friday Fictioneers leader and my last week as one just of the gang. She will be one tough act to follow.  Click here for other FF stories. Enjoy! 

My offering this week is a tribute to Madison and our diverse global community that I hope continues to grow and flourish. 

*Note: I don’t think I can put the linkz tool on my blog without upgrading. So it looks like we’ll be back to posting our blog addresses here and in our comments. I’m open to any and all feedback or instruction on this. 

****

copyright-Ron Pruitt

Apprehensions whelmed the new driver. How could she steer this behemoth? Her feet barely reached the gas pedal.

A lithe maiden with pointed ears and iridescent wings floated past her.  Next was an imposing man whose black silk cape skimmed the floor. One by one, diverse passengers stowed their baggage and found their seats.

“Welcome,” said the last in line. “I’m Russell.”

Warmed by his congenial smile she tried not to stare at his plastic clown nose and grasped his offered hand.

Zzzzzzt! His joy buzzer sent shockwaves to her shoulder.  

He chortled. “Are we there yet?” 

23 February 2018

Published February 21, 2018 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 © Marie Gail Stratford

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

ABIGAIL’S ROSE

            Weary from tending her feverish child, she sank into her rocking chair. The baby, who had howled with pain most of the night, finally calmed. Abigail Adams caressed her daughter’s silky head and kissed her cool cheek.

            “Sleep, now, my sweet Suky.”

            Suky’s four-year-old sister tiptoed into the room. Abigail stopped rocking and held out a hand to her. “Can you not sleep, Nabby?”

            “I dreamt the angels plucked a rose from our garden.” Nabby patted the baby’s back. “Is she feeling better, Mother?”

            “Yes, my darling. Our rose is feeling ever so much better.”

            “Then why are you weeping?”

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*

Although much has been written about Abigail Adams, wife of President John Adams, I could find precious little about Grace Susanna Adams who died when she was 13 months old. As a mother, I cannot imagine the agony of losing a child that young, but, my friend and fellow fictioneer, Dale Rogerson, can for she has “been there.” 

***

One of life’s happy ‘accidents’ came while following the research trail came in learning that there is a rose named Abigail Adams. Who knew? 

16 February 2018

Published February 14, 2018 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

Please be respectful of your fellow writers/readers and keep your stories to 100 words. Thank you and Shalom. 

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Once more I’m sharing an excerpt from an excerpt from both FROM SILT AND ASHES  and A STONE FOR THE JOURNEY. As I write, I’m making progress with the latter. Thank you for your patience and kind feedback. 

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

GOODBYE, HELLO 

Ulrich held Havah’s letter to his nose and breathed in the aroma of rose water. He pictured her at her table, black waves cascading over her shoulders.

His mind harked back to Rotterdam Harbor where they bid each other farewell. The taste of their stolen kiss lingered on his lips, even as Arel waited on the dock.

“How are things in America?” asked his housemate Nikolai.

Ulrich tossed him the letter. “Read for yourself.”

“They’re happy despite the cold winter. Good for them.”

“Yes indeed.” Biting his lip, Ulrich crumpled the envelope. “I’m delirous for them.” 

“Ulrich, let her go.”

 

             

 

 

9 February 2018

Published February 7, 2018 by rochellewisoff

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“Reciprocity is the glue that holds communities together.” – Neil MacDonald

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 © JS Brand

Please be respectful and keep your stories to 100 words. Thank you. 

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Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

FREESTYLE

            Yellow Tangs and Blue-violet perch floated before Elise, unconcerned by her presence. Sunrays beamed through the crystal ceiling, illuminating purple fan coral that swayed to and fro like dancers. Palming the water, she somersaulted and dove deeper, chasing schools of glistening fish.

            She flipped again, but before she could right herself, long tendrils of seaweed twisted around her wrists and ankles. Try and tug though she might, the plants held tight.

            With a gasp, she woke amid tangled blankets and bedsheets. “Roger Miller was right. You can’t roller-skate in a buffalo herd and you can’t go swimming in queen-size bed.”  

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And Just for Fun 😉 😀

2 February 2018

Published January 31, 2018 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

Please be considerate to your fellow writer/readers and keep your stories to 100 words. Thank you. 

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The crunch is on. I’ve started putting a manuscript together for A STONE FOR THE JOURNEY. So most of my writing energy these days is going into the short stories and excerpts for the book. The following is a tweaked excerpt from FROM SILT AND ASHES that’s cut down from the version that’s going in the next book. That made perfect sense, right? 

Genre: Historical Fiction circa 1904

Word Count: 100

DOORPOST

          Havah traced the shin, the first letter of the word Shaddai, Almighty on the weathered tube on her door jamb with her index finger. The mezuzah was one of the few things she managed to salvage from the ruins of her village.

        She remembered how David, then thirteen, spent hours carving the wood. Careful not to crack it, he hollowed out a place to insert the parchment scroll inscribed with Torah verses. How had it survived? She brought her fingertips to her lips and kissed them, remembering her brother’s face.

       “Sweet David, your words have I hidden in my heart.”

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FUROR

Published January 29, 2018 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman visits Bristol in the southwest of England.   This week’s location was suggested by the talented and inspiring Kelvin M. Knight, blogger and flash fiction ninja. If you haven’t already, wander over and check out his blog.

Your mission is to write a 150-word story, poem, or essay inspired by this week’s location. You’ll find both photo spheres and streetview to inspire you. Once your piece is polished, please share it with other Pegman contributors using the link up below.

It has been one majorly busy weekend with an unexpected trip to the ER and a whole day lost. Here it is Monday morning…still catching up on Friday Fictioneers and posting a late Pegman story. What am I meshuggeh? On the other hand, the following tweaked snippet from AS ONE MUST, ONE CAN puts me closer to having A STONE FOR THE JOURNEY  completed. So it’s all good, right? Of course right!

Colston Hall in Bristol taken in 1917

Genre: Historical Fiction (Vienna 1908)

Word Count: 150

FUROR

Deep satisfaction surged through Ulrich. Four-year-old Rachel enthralled audiences across Europe, from Colston Hall in Bristol, to, just days before, in Vienna’s Musikverein.

            “Rachel is a magnificent talent,” said Catherine.

            “A prodigy. My little Mozart.”

            The steady clop of the horses’ hooves along the cobblestones lulled Ulrich as they made their way around the circular courtyard called the Schwarzenbergplatz.

            He stopped the carriage. “The famous Hochstrahlbrunnen fountain.” 

            “It’s simply gorgeous!”

            In the midst of a large round pool, a geyser-like fountain spotlighted from below illuminated the night sky, by turns, with purple, blue, yellow, green and red.

            A strident voice split through the peaceful water’s swooshing. A rail-thin youth gestured with the fervor of one addressing thousands rather than one equally scrawny youngster.

            “These strange ones with their ugly language that sounds like snuffles and squeaking and their odd dress have no place here. We are Germans. ‘Deutschland über alles!’”

 

26 January 2018

Published January 24, 2018 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


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Saturday, January 27th is the 73rd anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz. The following story is one that I discovered a few years back and never ceases to fascinate me. 

Genre: Realistic Fiction based on a True Story

Word Count: 100

RENOVATION

As he did every morning, Dov Ben Avraham recited the Sh’ma, “Hear O, Yisrael, Adonai is our Lord, Adonai is one.” The Hebrew words from Deuteronomy 6 were sweet to his tongue and uplifting to his heart. After saying his final amen, he added, “Thank you for making me a Jew.”

Later that night, at the synagogue he prepared to tell his story at a memorial dinner to honor those who perished at Auschwitz.

Gazing at a few survivors among the guests, Dov, Dr. Bernd Wollschlaeger, said, “Please forgive me for the sins of my father, a Nazi tank commander.”

 

 Bernd Wollschlaeger, M.D.

 

To see an interview with Dr. Wollschlaeger CLICK HERE

19 January 2018

Published January 17, 2018 by rochellewisoff

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“The key to building an audience is reading and commenting others’ works.” Russell Gayer

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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As the new year has begun, I need to concentrate on my coffee table book. (I hope you’re not tired of hearing about it.) 

There are always those scenes on the cutting room floor. Here’s one that didn’t make it into AS ONE MUST, ONE CAN. It’s edited from over 200 words as well. The lesson to be learned here is ‘never throw anything away.’ 😉 

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

A TIME TO LAUGH

            Guilt niggled Havah for watching Vaudeville at Electric Park on the Sabbath. But didn’t the Book say laughter is good for the soul?

            Jugglers wearing gaudy costumes spun plates on sticks. Acrobats in skintight outfits flipped in midair.

            Havah marveled when the magician made a pair of turtledoves appear out of nowhere.

            “It’s called sleight of hand.” Itzak shrugged. “He probably had them stuffed in his trousers.”  

            “Who cares? He’s amazing!”

            Next the trickster’s dog pointed to letters on cards with his paw to spell out his name—P-I-L-U.

            In a stage whisper, Itzak said, “Glad his name isn’t Constantinople.”

 

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