4 March 2016

Published March 2, 2016 by rochellewisoff

The following photo is the PROMPT. Keep in mind that all photos are the property of the contributor, therefore copyrighted and require express permission to use for purposes other than Friday Fictioneers. Giving credit to whom credit is due is proper etiquette.

Please be considerate and make an effort to stay within the suggested word count.

PHOTO PROMPT © Sean Fallon

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Many of you will remember this prompt. It’s one of my first as Friday Fictioneers Fairy Blog Mother. This week I feel the need to direct my writing energy to another project so I’m falling back on a re-run. It’s one of my favorite photos and stories from nearly four years ago. Looking back on the link from that prompt I see that quite a few of you wrote stories for it. Thank you for sticking with it. ❤ Feel free to take a break or write another story.

Genre: (hopefully not) Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

A WELL-ORDERED LIFE

Prototypical milquetoast, Benjamin Parker wore bow ties and kept to himself.

Three days of no-call, no-show to work passed before anyone missed him enough to call the police.

When we broke into his immaculate apartment we found his pajama-clad body in bed. There were no signs of foul play.

Jars filled with things like batteries, safety pins, wine corks and matchbooks lined cabinets and counter-tops.

“Quite the collector. Wonder if he jarred his tidy whities.” I flung open the closet door and choked. “What the—?”

In single file on the top shelf human heads floated in name-tagged gallon jars.

***

This coming Sunday, March 6, I’ll be interviewed on local TV at 7:50 AM CST. It will be streamed live here. Click the red new button and then “Live Streaming.”

And for your listening pleasure.

25 September 2015

Published September 23, 2015 by rochellewisoff

The next photo is the PHOTO PROMPT. Where does it take you? Tell us in one hundred words or less.

PHOTO PROMPT © The Reclining Gentleman

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Genre: Speculative Fiction

Word Count: 100

UNINVITED

‘Ezra the guardian,’ showed up at Jenna’s reception carrying his file, a tattered notebook full of yellowed newspaper clippings and dog-eared photos.

“What’s that screwball doing here?” I laughed at his sky-blue suitcoat and checkered trousers.

“Ask him to dance.” Jenna winked.

Ezra smiled at me and my scalp tingled.

“I’d sooner die.”

***

In my hasty getaway I collided with an oncoming semi. My windshield exploded, sharp pain shot through my chest and then all feeling ceased.

***

“Shall we dance?” whispers Ezra the guardian.

His smile brings me peace as we hover, hand in hand, over my mangled mortal coil.

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*Note: In Hebrew Ezra (עזרא) means ‘help’ and is similar to Azriel (עזריאל) which means ‘God’s help.’ Azriel the Archangel of Death. My story is in no way meant to promote a particular belief system, it’s merely the product of my imagination.

24 July 2015

Published July 22, 2015 by rochellewisoff

The following photo is the PHOTO PROMPT, a cool picture for hot days, depending on your side of the globe. Where does it take you? Tell us in a hundred words or less.

PHOTO PROMPT © Dee Lovering

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Genre: Science Friction

Word Count: 100

YOUNGER DRYAS

“The weatherman says we can expect another six inches of global warming tonight.” Kent knelt and shaped a mound of wet snow into a ball. Then he stood and let it fly. “Look out, Taffy. Here comes some of your greenhouse effect!”

The snowball splattered against the back of Taffy’s head and ice rolled down her neck. She spun around. “How can you ignore what’s happening right under your nose?”

“Climate change? Hooey and hogwash!”

Taffy bent and dug a conch shell from a knee-high drift. “Doesn’t this weather strike you as being a bit odd for Florida in mid-July?”

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click

26 December 2014

Published December 24, 2014 by rochellewisoff

JUST IN!!! DUE TO THE BUSY-NESS OF THE HOLIDAYS, I’M EXTENDING THIS PROMPT FOR ANOTHER WEEK. IF YOU HAVEN’T HAD TIME TO WRITE BECAUSE OF FAMILY CELEBRATIONS AND WHAT-NOT THIS IS YOUR CHANCE TO POST A BARN BURNER FOR THE NEW YEAR.

***STAY CALM AND WRITE***

The next in this line of photos is the PHOTO PROMPT. Is the staircase going up or just coming down? Where does it take you? Tell me your story in a hundred words or less.

My story follows the prompt and the inLinkz blue frog. I appreciate honest comments and constructive crit.

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright -Björn Rudberg

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Recently, I woke to find that our internet was down. Cut off from my online friends, a sense of panic flooded me. I felt empty and alone. The what-if’s bombarded me.

Genre: Speculative Fiction

Word Count: 100

EMP

Couched in complacency, we never saw it coming.

The first few hours weren’t bad. We figured the electric company would remedy the problem while we enjoyed sandwiches and chips by candlelight and a break from television.

After a month we were still in darkness and the grocery shelves were bare.

My car with its solid state circuit for a brain is a useless hunk of metal.

Local doctors are at a loss to treat the simplest diseases.

Real books are in demand.

We’re learning to live off the land but the internet is dead and the silence is deafening.

Toemageddon

Published June 29, 2014 by rochellewisoff

LIGHTNING STRIKES TWICE

I’ve often claimed to be my own anecdote. But if I can’t laugh at myself…and so on and so on and Scooby dooby dooby do.

Although I don’t like to share my physical trials and tribulations, sometimes a situation presents itself that’s too ridiculous not to share. For example, some may recall post about my minute clinic excursion for a mouth ulcer last year that led to a trip to the ER for an abnormally low heart rate.

My story begins during the last week of April when I slipped and stubbed my left big toe before going of to work. I thought nothing much of it as I donned my shoe. No bruise, no swelling. It was uncomfortable but not unbearable the rest of the day. Imagine my shock and amazement when I removed my shoe that afternoon.

X-rays showed that I’d fractured it at the top joint.

A month later, another x-ray showed that my poor broken digit hadn’t healed. My sentence was another four weeks in the stylish, open toed “oxford.” Ironically I haven’t had much pain with this one. For this I’ve been thankful.

This brings me to this past Friday morning. As I blissfully stepped out of the tub after a refreshing shower I banged my right toe against the sliding-door track. Sharp pain. But I’ve done that before many times over. Nothing to worry about, right?

Instead of subsiding, the pain grew steadily worse as did the swelling and discoloration. By yesterday morning (Saturday) it had swollen more. My husband insisted on taking me to the local ER.

Before all was said and done I warned the ER nurses about my heart rate which for me is normal. (49 for those curious readers.)

A tech came in and snapped four different x-ray views. I prayed for a diagnosis of simple bruising. Go home put ice on it.

No such luck.

The PA came back and showed me one of the x-rays on her iPhone. A lovely little fracture in the middle of the joint where foot meets toe.

So I look forward to returning to work Tuesday wearing not one, but two, ortho boots.

Sigh. Off to take my pain meds.

L’chaim.

20 June 2014 -Summer Rerun

Published June 18, 2014 by rochellewisoff

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Below is the photo prompt. I’ve tried to enlarge it but it defies all my attempts. $:\$

PHOTO PROMPT
Copyright -Mary Shipman

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*I have out-of-town guests coming this week so I won’t be reading or commenting much after Thursday. I really appreciate all of you.*

This was the fourth story I posted for Friday Fictioneers, 1 May 2012. It’s still one of my favorites and it’s fun to go back there to see who commented and what they said. 😉

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word count: 99

SIMPLE HOUSE

In 1901 taxidermist Jefferson Thomas constructed a home and a thriving business. His petulant mail-order bride hated rural life.

One day her prized ruby from a former suitor disappeared. Blaming Jefferson, she demanded a divorce. Tongues wagged when she abandoned both her husband and child.

A century later a tornado devastated the house to a pile of clapboard. Amid the rubble, Jefferson Thomas III found nothing left of his heritage save a lone wall. He tore off a length of wallpaper and yelped.

A glass eyed, mummified woman stared back at him, a ruby ring clinched between her teeth.