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23 June 2017

Published June 21, 2017 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 © Ted Strutz

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Genre: Speculatively Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

DESIGNATION

 

 Slow moving traffic and gray skies contributed to Ted’s equally gray mood. The rhythmic thump and swish of windshield wipers lulled him.

            He had almost drifted off when banging on his passenger-side window startled him. Leaning over, he opened the door.

            “Mahalo, hoaloha. I must get back to my sheep near the harbor.”

            “Friday Harbor?” Ted stared at the stranger’s crescent-shaped eyes and old fashion clothing. “Where’re you from?”

            “Hawaii, but I work for Fort Cowitz.”

            “They shut down in 1869. What’s your name?”

            “Poalima. ‘Friday’ in English.”

            A horn’s blast made Ted jump and the stranger vanished like steam.  

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Mahalo, hoaloha – thank you, friend.

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PRICELESS

Published June 19, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman takes us to the Burj Khalifa in Dubai.

Feel free to stroll around the area using the Google street view and grab any picture you choose to include in your post.

To enjoy stories inspired by the What Pegman Saw prompt or to submit your own 150-word story, visit the inLinkz button:

For guidelines and rules for the What Pegman Saw weekly writing prompt, visit the home page.

Thanks to K Rawson and J Hardy Carroll for heading up this challenge, one that I can’t seem to avoid. 😉 I’m not even caught up on my Friday Fictioneers reading, commenting and replying.

The Gold Souk in Dubai

Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 150

PRICELESS

            “Cash for your old gold,” boasted a reputable local jeweler.

            He set up a table at the front of the grocery store where I worked as a cake designer. There he made his offer to employees and customers alike.  

            “Wish I had something to trade in, I could use the money,” said Maggie, my coworker. “You got anything?”

            My husband is something of a jewelry junkie and bought some stunning gold pieces while stationed in Dubai during the Gulf War. Nothing I care to part with. My favorite is a simple heart ring, the symbol of storms we’ve weathered in our marriage.

            “Nah, but I wonder what this is actually worth.”

            Maggie took it and left the bakery. When she returned she tossed it on the counter. “It’s fake.”

            Isn’t it sad that a “trained professional” didn’t recognize 24 carat gold?  

            Like my daddy used to say, “It’s always something.”   

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It’s rarely left my right index finger since December 1999. 24 carat gold is soft and easily bent. BUT it’s never turned my finger green.

 

16 June 2017

Published June 14, 2017 by rochellewisoff

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Our Mantra


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

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

COMMISSION NUMBER 3

           Trina wasn’t forced to wear a yellow star like her friend Hanna, but she was ostracized by the other children who called her schwarz schimpanse.

            One day a uniformed woman entered the classroom. “Trina Azikiwe, I’m here to take you to the doctor.

            “I’m not sick.”

            The officer dealt Trina’s cheek a stinging blow. “Silence, Rheinlandbastard!”

            Trina would never forget the cruel procedure that rendered her forever childless or the doctor’s admonition. “Never have sexual relations with good Germans.”

            Good Germans? There were none better than her golden-haired mother and handsome bronze father who perished for their ‘sin’ in Dachau.

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NOTE -Schwarz schimpanze – Black chimpanzee…(Do I need to translate ‘Rheinlandbastard?’)

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OPUS MAJESTUOSO

Published June 11, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman walks through Guatemala City

Feel free to stroll around the area using the Google street view and grab any picture you choose to include in your post.

To enjoy stories inspired by the What Pegman Saw prompt or to submit your own 150-word story, visit the inLinkz button:

For guidelines and rules for the What Pegman Saw weekly writing prompt, visit the home page.

Thanks to J Hardy Carroll and K Rawson for hosting this enjoyable challenge! 

Once more, following the research trail I learned some history I didn’t know. If that’s not wonderful enough, this is ART history. 

Mural by Carlos Mérida – Institute of Social Security in Guatemala City

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

OPUS MAJESTUOSO

            Carlos hunched over the piano, hands over his ears, tears dripping on the ivory keys. “No puedo oír la música. Mi vida se acabó.”

            “Mi hijo,” Papa squeezed Carlos’ shoulder, “my son, you are only fifteen. It is sad that sickness damaged your ears, but your life is just beginning.”

            “How can I be a pianist if I cannot hear the music?”

            Papa opened a varnished wooden box containing tubes of color and various sized brushes. “Your art teacher says you show gran potential.”

            Rolling one of the brushes between his fingers, a slow smile spread Carlos’ lips. His heart raced as he stroked an imaginary canvas. “I will paint todo el mundo, the whole world.”

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            51 years later, in 1958, Delilah Mérida’s smile radiated love and pride when the Guatemalan government honored his artistic achievement with the Order of the Quetzal. “My husband makes music for the eyes.”

Carlos Mérida

Click here from más información

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Although I hope it came through in context, here’s the translation: “No puedo oír la musica. Mi vida se acebó.” -“I can’t hear the music. My life is over.” 

9 June 2017

Published June 7, 2017 by rochellewisoff

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 © Sarah Potter

Please be considerate and try to keep your story to 100 words. Thank you. 

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No doubt everyone has their own version of my story. This came to mind on one such night where I solved all of the world’s troubles and none of my own. 

Genre: Somewhat humorous

Word Count: 99

EARWORM

            I stare at the ceiling fan, hoping to hypnotize myself into oblivion. Instead my tangled thoughts rage with each rotation.

            “Sherry ba-abeee…Sher-er-reee.”

            Midnight.

            “I’m gonna make a you my-yi-yi-in.”

            “Authors are a dime a dozen. Chaim Potok I’ll never be. Loser.”

            “Come, come, come out toniiight.”

            01:45

            Every person who’s ever wronged me comes to mind. I plot revenge.

            “We’ll dance the night awaaaay.”

            03:30. Numpty o’clock. I should just get up.

            Finally my head sinks into the hollow of my pillow and I succumb to a delicious wave of drowse.

            “Crap! I forgot to pay the gas bill.”

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And just because I can. 😈 Buah ha ha!

HEAD TRIP

Published June 5, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman walks along the docks of Cebu City, Philippines

Feel free to stroll around the area using the Google street view and grab any picture you choose to include in your post.

To enjoy stories inspired by the What Pegman Saw prompt or to submit your own 150-word story, visit the inLinkz button:

For guidelines and rules for the What Pegman Saw weekly writing prompt, visit the home page.

Another week, another Pegman tour. Thanks to J Hardy Carroll and K Rawson for hosting this weekly challenge. 

Fort San Pedro

What writer among us has never suffered from writer’s block? 

Genre: Questionable

Word Count: 150

HEAD TRIP

“Señorita Wisoff? Daydreaming again?”

“No, Señor Scott.” I snap my head to attention. A twitter travels around the classroom. My cheeks blaze with embarrassment. “I—I guess I dozed off.”

“Can you tell me which explorer landed in Cebu in 1521 and converted Rajah Humobon and his queen to Christianity?”

“Vasco de Gama?”

“Guess again. This explorer met his death soon after.”  

“Pope John?”

“Where’s your homework, Señorita?”

Sweat trickling down my backbone, I open my notebook to a page of scrawled sentences. “I did my deberes gramáticas.”

Eyes aflame, my high school Spanish teacher rips out my paper and holds it aloft. “You see, class, what comes of not paying attention.”

Suddenly I’m up to my knees in Pacific Ocean, surrounded by angry natives wielding bamboo spears.

“Holy Magellan! What a nightmare!” Snapping open my eyes, I kick off the bedcovers. “What on earth can I write for Pegman?”  

2 June 2017

Published May 31, 2017 by rochellewisoff

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Our Mantra

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 © Karuna

Please be considerate and keep your flash fiction to 100 words. Thank you. 

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

HATE IS TOO GREAT A BURDEN

           “Love that forgives is our theme,” said Carole.

            Addie, tall for fourteen, Denise, the dress-up princess, Cynthia, and Carole, the Girl Scout who had earned every known badge, prepared for the youth service. I envied them as they tied each other’s sashes. I was only four, too young to participate.

            Cynthia’s dark eyes sparkled. “How many times should we forgive?”

            Her smile illuminating the Birmingham church basement, Addie, winked at me. “Seventy times seven.”  

            Moments later, the Grand Dragon spewed fire and brimstone. Time halted at 10:22 that September Sunday morning in 1963. Eternity claimed four angels.  

            I cannot forgive.

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“I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear.” Martin Luther King, Jr.

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