17 April 2020

Published April 15, 2020 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 © Roger Bultot

Click the Frog to Play Along!

Word Count: 100

Genre: Historical Fiction

I told myself I was going to give Historical Fiction a rest, but this story found me and begged to be shared. For those across the sea, let me introduce you to an American icon. (she should be)

AFTER A FASHION

The sun rose on New York’s horizon, Lena’s adopted city since immigrating from Lithuania in 1895, as a 16-year-old orphan. The baby on her soaking hip crammed his fist into his mouth and whimpered.

“Oy. My little pisher needs his vikileh changed.”

Once the deed was done she sat at her sewing machine, sleeping infant on her lap. She yawned. “No rest for weary Widow Bryant. Miss Feingold needs her wedding dress.”

Four years later, Lena opened her own shop. Thanks to the bank’s misspell on her loan, we now remember the designer of fashionable plus-size dresses as Lane Bryant.

Pisher is a Yiddish word for someone who can’t keep his drawers dry. Vikeleh is diaper or nappie depending on which side of the pond you’re on. 😉

*

17 January 2020

Published January 15, 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 © J Hardy Carroll

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

STRENGTH IN EACH TEAR

Lula cuddled and sang to her two-year-old son. The doctor’s words echoed through her mind. “I’m sorry, there’s nothing we can do. You need a miracle.”

The screaming prayers of the itinerate preacher beseeching God for a miracle only served to add to Lula’s sorrow. Her baby would never enjoy the beauty of a red rose or a blue sky. Born too soon, the incubator stole his sight.

“Don’t you worry. We’ll make our own miracle.”

Ten years later, Barry Gordy dubbed Lula’s boy Little Stevie Wonder, saying, “Mrs. Morris, your son’s musical gift is nothing short of a miracle.”

27 July 2018

Published July 25, 2018 by rochellewisoff

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Please be considerate of 70 or more participants and keep your story to 100 words. Thank you.

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 😀 (Thanks, Ted)

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Genre: Historical/Biographical Fiction

Word Count: 100

STRANGERS IN THE NIGHT

After thirty hours of labor, at 3 o’clock in the morning, Dolly’s desperate physician resorted to forceps to deliver her baby.

Dolly clutched her sister’s hand. “Josie, is it a girl? I don’t hear her cry. Is she—?”

“Stillborn,” said the doctor, sweat beading his forehead. “He nearly killed his mama.”

The midwife laid the motionless infant on the kitchen scale. “Thirteen pounds. Big boy for such a tiny mother.” She held him under running water. “Sveglia!”

He sputtered and cried.

“Hello, piccolo sconosciuto.” Dolly Sinatra took her wailing son in her arms. “Just listen to my Francis sing.”

*piccolo sconosciuto is Italian for ‘little stranger’

Sveglia is “Wake up!”

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Because a story about Old Blue Eyes wouldn’t be complete without a song, I leave you with one that Frank Sinatra hated when he first heard it. Doobie doobie doo.

20 July 2018

Published July 18, 2018 by rochellewisoff

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Please be considerate of 70 or more participants and keep your story to 100 words. Thank you.

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/Biographical Fiction

Word Count: 100

LOVE THY NEIGHBOR

Resting his chin on his palm, Freddie pouted and stared out the window.

Fred McPheely ached for his grandson whose asthma prevented him from roughhousing outside with other children.

Sinking down beside him, Fred ruffled his namesake’s hair. “Feeling blue, kiddo?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” The boy sniffed. “Grandpa, why do neighborhood kids make fun of me?”

“Can’t say. Maybe they just need love. One thing I do know…”

***

Freddie never forgot what his grandfather said next. As Mister Rogers, he repeated it every afternoon to four generations of young television audiences across America.

“You make my day very special.”

CLICK here for a little more.

Fred Roegers – 1928-2003

Farewell to Trolley, King Friday, Queen Sarah Saturday, Officer Clemmons, Mr. McPheely. Daniel Tiger and the gang. You made us all feel very special.

29 June 2018

Published June 27, 2018 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

UNFORGETTABLE

When Nathaniel tickled the ivories, he mesmerized Chicago’s jazz club audiences. The talented sixteen-year-old played for hot dogs, soda pop and pure joy. In 1935, he and his band, the Rogues of Rhythm, challenged the great Earl Hines and his Orchestra to a musical duel—and won.

Twenty-one years later, Capitol Records’ leading vocalist became the first African American to host his own television program. Performers from Sinatra to Ella Fitzgerald clamored to donate their services. Despite rave reviews, white sponsors refused to back him.

Fighting tears, Nat King Cole cancelled his show saying, “Madison Avenue’s afraid of the dark.”

*

Buddy DeSylva, founder of Capitol Records, is quoted as having said, “If Nat Cole were white, he’d be bigger than Sinatra or Crosby.”

Here’s a clip from the ill-fated The Nat “King” Cole Show

2 March 2018

Published February 27, 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 © J Hardy Carroll

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NOTE: Oops! Tuesday is NOT the new Wednesday. As some of you already know, I write and schedule my stories ahead. (Keeps my sanity…well…somewhat.) At any rate, I scheduled the wrong start date. At least the prompt is here…some might remember the week my page went live but the prompt didn’t show up with it. Thanks for understanding.

Please be considerate of your fellow fictioneers and keep your word-count at 100 words or less–title not included. Thank you.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

REQUIEM FOR A HEAVYWEIGHT

“What’s your name, kid?”

Winded from his match, the coal miner’s son took a deep breath. “Volodymyr Palahniuk.”

His prospective manager punched Volodymyr’s stomach. “Tight as a drum. And you’re lightning in the ring, but that moniker’s gotta go. Whatcha think of……say… Jack Brazzo?”

“I like it.”

“Atta boy.”

Over the next year, Jack scored 15 victories and 12 KO’s. A force to be reckoned with until Joe Baksi, another coal miner’s son, outpointed him.

Years later Jack, who changed Brazzo to Palance and turned to theater, said, “You must be nuts to get your head beat in for $200.”

*

Jack Palance doing a on-armed push up at the 1992 Oscars

49f7f49b67c8b826376082fa2fe577bf--jack-palance-city-slickers

190px-Requiem_for_a_Heavyweight_rod_serling

d711dd7e84efe88e19eaaf89449814b7--jack-palance-tv-movie

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.”

*

And Just for Fun 😉 😀

26 January 2018

Published January 24, 2018 by rochellewisoff

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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

ETHNOLOGIC

Published April 24, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman is visiting Peleliu.

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.

Many thanks to Karen Rawson and her highly significant other J Hardy Carroll

My choice from the Pegman Buffet

After spending two hours watching videos about Palau’s history, politics and current world status I ended up writing about a former coworker. This is the story that wouldn’t leave. I write about her in the past tense only because I’m gleefully retired from cake decorating. The story is mostly true. 😉

Genre: Anecdote

Word Count: 150

ETHNOLOGIC

Ivonne was one of the most exasperating decorators I worked with during my off-and-on bakery career. While creative and talented, she would be quick one day and move with glacial speed the next with nothing in between.

This is not to say I didn’t like her. I did. She had a keen sense of humor and an easy smile. With kinky hair and dark skin, I assumed the obvious, until the day her mother came to the shop to visit her—a diminutive lady with almond eyes and straight black hair.

“What’s her nationality?” I asked Ivonne. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Nah. I’m used to it.” She tilted her head and stared off in the distance. “Dad was stationed in Palau. I was never black enough or Micronesian enough. Now I have two children who are all that and half Caucasian. What race does that make them?”

“Human.”

21 April 2017

Published April 19, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Note: The inLinkz closes every Tuesday evening at 6:55 CDT to make way for the next that opens a few hours later.

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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.

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

SPLIT WEEK

“Papa, how could you fire Joe?” Myra Cutler flung her dance shoes into her suitcase. “He was an asset to the show.”

“You’re only off by two letters.” Frank, head of the Cutler Comedy Club, embraced his seventeen-year-old daughter. “All that wastrel has on his mind is my talented baby girl. You’ve no future with him.”

Pulling back, Myra clenched her teeth. “We’re going to be huge Vaudeville stars.”

___

A year later, in 1895, after a show in Piqua, Kansas, weary from performing, Myra gave birth to the third member of their act—Joseph Frank Keaton—better known as Buster.

***