10 April 2026

Published April 8, 2026 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 © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

The photo is a seascape. On the beach some seagulls are resting. A sailboat with a brightly colored sail is on the water. The sky is overcast.

CLICK ON THE FROG TO HOP ON BOARD

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

THE FROZEN SEA WITHIN US

Shadow monsters chased Franz. Twisted trees and thorny brambles caught his clothes. He snapped open his eyes.

The wind howled outside, sounding like shouts of tyrants and wails of children.

“Mother! Father! Help!” He cried out. “A drink please! I’m so thirsty.”

Father loomed over him.

Instead of water or the comforting words the child longed for, Father carried him to the balcony. “Never disturb my sleep again, you little insect.” The door locked behind him.

Frigid wind whipped through the boy’s thin nightgown. For the rest of his all-too-brief life, Franz Kafka despaired of ever winning his father’s love.

“A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us.”
― Franz Kafka

If you have ten minutes to spare CLICK to know more about him.

27 March 2026

Published March 25, 2026 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

The photo looks to be a lattice or wooden fence covered with spider webs and vines. From the way the photo is framed it almost appears to be a window. Through the openings we see green grass, a tree, and the sky. The webs are so thick they look like they’re made from yarn of thick thread.

CLICK THE FROG TO JOIN

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

A CANTERBURY TALE

A rock shattered the window. Heart thumping, Prudence picked it up and placed it on the mantel like a trophy. “I’ll not back down.”

She read her advertisement in the April 1833 edition of “The Liberator.”

“…the first Monday of April next, her school will be opened for the reception of young Ladies and Little Misses of Color…”

She recalled the angry white townsmen who had recently banged on her door spewing their heated displeasure.

“Such a boarding school will lead to intermarriage,” they claimed.

Prudence Crandall stiffened her back, glared at them, and said, “Moses had a black wife.”

CLICK to know more

It doesn’t exactly go with the story, but it kept playing in my head, and just seems to fit. 🙂

13 March 2026

Published March 11, 2026 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 © Lisa Fox

This week’s photo has us inside what appears to be an art gallery with blue walls. Hanging from a square light fixture are red and golden ornaments. There are canvasses on the blue wall. One painting is of a floral arrangement. To the left there’s another section with red wall.

Click the artistic frog to join. (Thanks, Keith)

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100 (Not counting the lengthy title 😉 )

“MY ILLUSTRIOUS LORDSHIP, I’LL SHOW YOU WHAT A WOMAN CAN DO”

With pigment-stained hands, her revered mentor seized her breast. “You have a gift, child.”

Seventeen-year-old Artemisia clawed his cheek and writhed to escape his grasp.

His relentless laughter echoed in her ears as he thrust himself into her. Despite her anguished cries, no one rescued her.

***

The gallery guide points out the drama in Artemisia Gentileschi’s vibrant paintings depicting strong women. In her second rendering of “Judith Beheading Holofernes” the red-hot intensity on the heroine’s face is palpable.

Did Artemisia pay back her assailant on canvas?

Agostino Tassi may have stolen the flower of her youth, but not her gift.

The title is a quote from the artist. Apropo, dontcha think? 😉

*Vindication on Canvas*

CLICK to know more.

6 March 2026

Published March 4, 2026 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.

The photo shows a cafe behind glass which appears to be on the ground floor of a large building. . There are tables, chairs, and people in the cafe. Skyscrapers are reflected in the glass.

Click Frog to Participate

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

AMERICAN PIE

Exhausted after a day of household duties, Amelia gathered her receipts. Quill in hand, she squinted at the parchment in the candlelight. “This new world needs its own receipt book. I shall entitle mine ‘American Cookery.’”

She wrote and whispered, “2 pounds citron, currants, and raisins…”

***

“Do you suppose this café serves independence cake?” Elise thumbed through her newly acquired slice of history.

Brandy cast a puzzled glance at the book. “What’s that?”

“First American cookbook. Published by a woman named Amelia Simmons in 1796. I found this facsimile on Amazon.”

“Why have I never heard of her?”

“Good question.”

Little is known about Amelia Simmons.

20 February 2026

Published February 18, 2026 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 © Lori Wilson

The photo shows a little cafe from the outside. In front of one of the windows is a statue of a chef. There are three narrow picnic tables that look like they’re built into the side of the building. The sign above the roof reads, “Shelly’s Cafe and has the logo for Route 66. Along the roof is red, white and blue bunting, probably for the 4th of July.

CLICK TO JOIN

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

BARBECUE KING

“Ain’t nothin’ better than this, son.” Mr. Perry turned a slab of ribs. “Hickory wood’s the secret.”

Seven-year-old Henry breathed in the smokey aroma.

At fifteen Henry left Tennessee to work on the steamboats traveling the Mississippi River. After hours bent over flames and smoke, he’d stand on the deck, dreaming of the future.

“Daddy was right,” he said years later as patrons lined up between 18^th Street and Vine to enjoy hot smoked meat wrapped in newsprint for twenty-five cents.

Barbecue’s up to date in Kansas City. I owe Henry Perry a debt of gratitude.

Please pass the sauce.

I can’t deny it. I’m a Kansas City girl and BBQ is in my top ten favorite foods. Of course there are the ongoing debates as to which establishment does it best. I do have my favorites. 😉

A few years ago I was told by a pitmaster in Alabama who learned from a KC pitmaster, “If there ain’t no smoke, it’s a joke. If there ain’t no wood, it ain’t no good.” (Perhaps it came down from Henry Perry.)

CLICK HERE IF YOU WANT TO KNOW MORE

13 February 2026

Published February 11, 2026 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 © David Stewart

This week’s photo is of a long sidewalk. One woman is walking along it. There’s a wall to right with a wrought iron fence and greenery peaking through. To the other side of the sidewalk is a row of trees and a street beside it.

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Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

DIGNITY OVER FEAR

“What if someone had found out?” Sarah held her daughter tightly in her arms. “What were you thinking?”

Rabbi Aharon Neuwirth scowled. “Obviously our child wasn’t thinking at all.”

As she pulled away, Yocheved’s blue eyes spilled over. She smiled and pushed back a lock of blonde hair. “I wanted to see the opening ceremony. All those athletes from all over the world. Besides, they thought I was just another Arian girl. But…”

“But what?” asked the rabbi.

“They gave me flowers to present to—him. I-I couldn’t. Oh, Mama. Papa. I’ve looked into the eyes of der Teufel himself.”

TO KNOW MORE CLICK

12 December 2025

Published December 10, 2025 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

In this week’s prompt we are in an alleyway between two stone walls. Lights are strung across the arched entry. There are picnic tables and a bench.

Click to participate.

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

HANUKKAH IN WESTERBROOK

“Aviva,” said Bubbie, “what are the letters on the dreidel?”

“Noon, Gimmel, Hey, Shin,” I replied. (נ,ג,ה,ש)

“What do they stand for?”

“Nes Gadol Hayah Sham. A great miracle happened there.”

“What miracle?”

“When there was only enough oil to keep the ancient Temple Menorah lit for one day and it burned for eight.”

Bubbie brushed a tear from her withered cheek. I knew where her mind had gone.

“We were young and brave.” She shrugged. “Or maybe just foolish. Leo lit the candles on the menorah. The light gave us hope in a very dark place. A great miracle indeed.”

*Hebrew letters read from right to left.

Happy Hanukkah to those who celebrate. © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

21 November 2025

Published November 19, 2025 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.

To Join in CLICK

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

JULY 10, 1945

Teresa Fletcher breathed in the aroma of apple pie. “Do you think they’ll like my fried chicken?”

“Considering the slop they’ve probably had to eat; your cooking will seem like fine dining.” Bob grinned.

She beamed at her new husband with pride. For three years he’d taken care of Al and Mary’s farm ignoring slurs, threats, and even attacks from the townspeople.

When the Tsukamotos entered, Teresa opened her arms wide and cried, “Welcome home!”

“Our house looks better than when we left!” Mary hugged the newlyweds. “Why’d you do this for us?”

Bob shrugged. “It was the right thing.”

Mary and daughter Marielle Tsukamoto

It’s a lot to read but to know more CLICK HERE

14 November 2025

Published November 12, 2025 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.

In the photo we see the edge of a swimming pool at sunset. There’s a potted plant on a partial wall to the left. The sky is ablaze over trees and mountains in the distance.

TO JOIN THE FUN CLICK

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

EYES OF THE HEART

In her eighteenth summer, Alyana’s grandfather informed her he was giving her to Kai.

She stomped her feet. “No, Sicheii, he’s the ugliest man in our Diné. I can’t even look at him.”

Alyana wept bitterly on their marriage night and refused to share her bed with Kai.

He shrugged and flashed a lopsided smile. “I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

She cried out. “Never!”

Two summers later, Alyana gave thanks at the Navajo celebration of her baby’s first laugh.

“This child brings joy!” Sicheii proclaimed

Resting her head on Kai’s shoulder, Alyana whispered, “And he is beautiful like his father.”

7 November 2025

Published November 5, 2025 by rochellewisoff

(We still have a frog, but he’s not necessarily blue. 😉 )

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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.

The photo is of a window with an open Venetian blind. Through it we see the front of a yellow house with white trim. Beside the windw is the edge of a Christmas tree with lights.

CLICK HERE TO JOIN

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

LEGALLY BLACK

Gazing out the window, she pondered the studio executive’s suggestion. “Fredi, you could easily pass for French and become a Hollywood star.”

“What happens if I’m found out?”

Despite her green eyes and pale skin, Fredi Washington remained true to her heritage. Was it her fault ignorant white audiences swallowed the notion of black inferiority hook, line and stinker?

Black actors should not have to stoop to stereotypical portrayals of shuffling servants. Clenching her teeth, Fredi folded her arms.

Turn her back? Pass?

“No. I’m a mighty proud gal. Why should I have to pass for anything but an artist?”