Historical Fiction

All posts in the Historical Fiction category

3 December 2021

Published December 1, 2021 by rochellewisoff
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PHOTO PROMPT © LIsa Fox

Genre: Hysterical Fiction
Word Count: 100

THINK TANK

“The things we take for granted,” said Shelley. “Who amongst us doesn’t ascend the porcelain throne upon arising? Wipe. Flush. Ready to face the day.”

“Run for cover.” Russell rolled his eyes. “The history faucet’s a-fixin’ to spout.”

“Do you know who invented toilet paper?”

“No, but I bet you’re gonna to tell me.”    

Shelley took a deep breath. “Joseph Gayetty in 1857. He introduced it as ‘Medicated Paper.’

“Great Scott!”

“Precisely! The Scott brothers marketed their ScotTissue in 1879. Although Seth Wheeler patented his version in 1891.

“Well, everybody poops.” Russell snorted. “One could say they saved our butts.”

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CLICK FOR MORE FUN FACTS ABOUT TOILET TISSUE

19 November 2021

Published November 17, 2021 by rochellewisoff
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PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Please add your Story URL to the inLinkz list after you click the link, rather than leaving it in my comment section. This way more people will be able to find and read your story. Thank you.
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A couple of weeks ago I posted a story about the origins of Legos. Of course this took my mind to other toys, such as Tinker Toys. I never owned a set but enjoyed playing with them with friends who did. Interesting to note, the idea of the round can was meant to be a mailing tube for easy posting. 😀 The following scene takes place in Evanston Illinois in 1914.

Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

STICKS AND STONES

After a long day of carving tombstones, Robert hurried down his basement stairs. He had to strike while the iron was hot.

***

            “Robert, you’ve been home an hour and haven’t greeted me or little Grace.”

            He flashed a sheepish grin at his wife. “Come see my invention.”

            “It looks like a pile of wooden sticks and spools to me.”

            “So it is! For children to build and create with. Whatcha think?”

            “I think your supper’s getting cold.”

***

            Robert Pajeau, Tinker Toy creator, left his estate to underprivileged children, stating that kids had built his empire and should share in it.

 

For a little more CLICK

 

November 12, 2021

Published November 10, 2021 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

I received a post card from Ted last week. It’s apparent that Ted is working off his back end in rehab and I was thrilled to get something written in his own hand. Keep up the good work, Ted! He asked if I could write a story about a lighthouse. So the following is my story.

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

KEEPERS OF THE LIGHT

“Play me a song, Mormor.” Six-year-old Agnes clapped her hands.

Helga Settles looked up from her bread dough. “Is that the proper way to ask your grandmother?”

The child pouted. “Please.”

Hilma poised her violin bow. “What would you like to hear, lilla gummun?”

Lilting music swelled the kitchen. Helga gazed out at the sea. Her Arvel, father of her five children, would soon be home from his twelve-hour shift at Lime Kiln Lighthouse. Tomorrow guests would fill their house.

She breathed in the aroma of baking sponge cake. Salmon sizzled on the stove. No one left Helga’s table hungry.

To learn more about the Settles family CLICK HERE

  • If you’d like to send Ted a card or note to encourage him, email me at rwisofffields.wordart@gmail.com for the snail mail address. 😀

5 November 2021

Published November 3, 2021 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 © Jennifer Pendergast
CLICK TO PLAY
Please Note: If you link your story to the inLinkz list I WILL SEE IT. There’s no need to put your link in my comment section. However, I do appreciate your comments on my story. 😉 Thank you for understanding. 

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

PLAY WELL

“Every detail matters,” impoverished carpenter and toymaker Ole Kristiansen told his son. “Only the best is good enough.”

            Godtfred, the third of five children, never forgot his father’s words.

            Together, they worked to build their toy business. Neither gave up on their dream despite three separate fires that threatened to raze their hopes to the ground.

            “Children need toys that strengthen their imaginations and creativity,” said Godtfred.

            Ole beamed with pride when his son redesigned his plastic interlocking bricks. Children loved them.

            Godtred blinked back tears at Ole’s untimely funeral. “Fader, I promise you, I will make Lego a success.”

  • Note: Lego is from the Danish “Leg Godt” which means “Play Well”. 😀

For those who want to know more. CLICK

24 September 2021

Published September 22, 2021 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© Liz Young

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

AT THE CRYSTAL PALACE IN 1854

“Don’t go, Elisha. Please.” Elizabeth grasped his arm. “Don’t make me a widow.”

            He caressed her cheek. “Have faith, Lizzie.”

Sweat beading on his forehead and sluicing between his shoulder blades, he stepped onto the platform.

            As it rose higher and higher, he gazed over the edge at the hushed crowd and questioned his own sanity.

He called out to the axe man. “Cut the rope.”

            A collective gasp erupted from the audience. Elisha Otis’ stomach somersaulted as the platform dropped, then halted. Thunderous applause exploded in his ears. His safety locking mechanism worked, and the modern elevator was born.

CLICK for more

17 September 2021

Published September 15, 2021 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 © Krista Strutz
Thanks to Keith Hillman for the frog Click to Join the Fun.

Genre: Questionable Fiction
Word Count: 100

PENTIMENTO

“There are no mistakes,” said the artist. “Only happy accidents.”

His soft voice caressed the TV viewer’s ears while he made love to a cloud with his wide brush. Often, he brought wild animals onto the set. He was nature lover first. Artist second. Passion on canvas.

Magnificent scenes appeared under his skillful hand in half an hour week after happy week.

“Believe strongly enough and you can make it happen,” he’d say.

We believed, didn’t we?

Mystery paints his final days. Smoking and inhaling paint thinner may have taken his life, but who owns the rights to his legacy?

Some extra curricular reading.

20 August 2021

Published August 18, 2021 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

I confess, this is a rerun from four years ago. Some might remember, some won’t. At any rate, I’ve been out town for a week and am taking the liberty of not racking my brain to come up with a new story. 😉 It is a new prompt though.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

ROAD KINGS

            Arthur mopped his forehead with his sleeve while holding his bicycle’s handlebar with his opposite hand. He tried to keep up with his buddy who had been blessed with longer legs.

            “Wait up, Bill!”

            The other boy grinned over his shoulder.  “Pedal faster, slowpoke. The fish ain’t gonna wait all day, ya know.”

            Once they reached the river, the boys laid their poles beside their bicycles and raced to the bank.

            Relishing the cool water, Arthur sighed. “Pedaling’s hard work. Someone oughta build a bike with a motor.”  

            “Who knows, Mr. Davidson?” Bill Harley splashed and sputtered. “Maybe someone will.”

William S. Harley
Arthur Davidson
William S. Harley and Arthur Davidson circa 1914


(L-R) My Road King, Jan Fields with Arthur’s great nephew, “Willie G” Davidson and his biker babe.

13 August 2021

Published August 11, 2021 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

Genre: Histrionic Fiction
Word Count: 100

PEACE BY PIECE

“Whatcha doin’ sis?”

“If you must know, I’m working a five-hundred-piece jigsaw puzzle. There.” Mindy snapped a corner in place. “That completes the border. Wanna help?”

Mike donned his baseball mitt. “Nah. Looks like work to me. Why would anyone waste their time like that?”

“Glad you asked. British cartographer James Spilsbury invented the dissected map in 1762 as an educational tool for the Royals’ children.”

“Uh, sis…?”

“Fast forward to 1933. Die-cast puzzles became all the rage. Cheap entertainment to—”

“Yoo-hoo?”

Mindy huffed. “What?”  

“I’m not a history expert like you, but I’m pretty sure that’s John Spilsbury.”

A bit more history of the jigsaw puzzle.

30 July 2021

Published July 28, 2021 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© Roger Bultot

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

WITZ KRIEG

Allan sucked in his lower lip. Did Mom really say, “Your father and I are getting a divorce. Which of us do you want to live with?”

“Rose, the boy’s only eight,” said Dad.

Looking from one parent to the other, sensing no affection from either, Allen blurted out, “I want to live with Grandma and Grandpa Sherman. They love me.”

            In the midst of his warped and disjointed world, being shuffled from house to house and school to school, Allan Sherman found comfort in food, writing and humor.

            In 1962 his writing and humor made him an overweight success.

***

Allan Sherman’s bright star fizzled after President Kennedy’s assassination. In 1973 his poor life choices caught up with him and he passed away ten days shy of his forty-ninth birthday.

Allan Sherman has been called Weird Al Yankovic’s “Founding Faddah.” Reportedly, President John F. Kennedy was a fan of Mr. Sherman’s parody songs. To know a little more about the man under the beanie CLICK HERE.

16 July 2021

Published July 14, 2021 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

Yes, it’s one of “those” stories from me. (No apologies). The subject is heavy on the mind of Kansas Citians this summer as the Auschwitz exhibit “Not Long Ago. Not Far Away.” is at our Union Station until September. Not to mention, this weekend is Tisha B’av or the 9th of Av when, historically, many calamities befell the Jews, including the fall of the temple in 70 C.E. and the deportation from the Warsaw Ghetto (July 23, 1942) to Treblinka. It is observed with fasting as one of the saddest days on the Jewish calendar.

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

THE HYENA

“The train took us to Auschwitz.” Marta tried to still her voice echoing in the microphone. “From there they forced us to walk to Bergen-Belsen.”  

            “How old are you, Marta?”

            “Seventeen, sir.”

            The lawyer pointed at the group of numbered defendants. “Are any of these familiar?”

            A young woman glared at her with ice-blue eyes. Marta shuddered. “Number nine. She tormented starving children with scraps of food and whipped them to death when they cried.”

            “I’ve heard Irma Grese laughed on her way to the gallows,” said Marta seventy years later. “Now I can laugh as she rots in hell.”

CLICK FOR MORE ABOUT THE “HYENA OF AUSCHWITZ”

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