Historical Fiction

All posts in the Historical Fiction category

3 May 2019

Published May 1, 2019 by rochellewisoff

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As always, please be considerate of your fellow Fictioneers and keep your stories to 100 words. (Title is not included in the word count.)  Many thanks. 

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

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“WE ONLY KILL EACH OTHER”

Eastern European immigrant Max Siegel held his eight-day-old son on his lap on a pillow.

The mohel smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ve clipped dozens of schmeckles.”

Once the deed was done, the rabbi blessed the baby. “We welcome you into the covenant of Avraham on this day, in New York City on the 11th of Adar in the year 5666—March 8, 1906”

The rabbi dropped wine into the squalling child’s mouth. “May you teach the brotherhood of mankind and may the name of Benjamin Siegel be a blessing in the House of Yisroel.”

Max kissed the baby and murmured. “Omayn.”  

Glossary Words:

Mohel – A Jew trained in the practice of brit milah, the “covenant of circumcision.”

Schmeckles – Guess. 😉

Now if you’re still scratching your head and asking yourself why the name Benjamin Siegel should ring a bell:

 

Click to know more about BUGSY SIEGEL

REDEMPTION

Published April 30, 2019 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman travels to Lod, Israel. The town takes its name from the biblical City of Lod, significant Judean town from the Maccabean Period to the early Christian period.

Click on the photo above and feel free to wander around. When you find inspiration, write 150 words on your blog and link it to the other entries via the blue frog below. Remember that reading and commenting is part of the fun!

Do your best and have a good time learning about a new place and the people who may live there.

I am shamefully  shamelessly late for the party this week. It was a crazy busy weekend, but when I saw the location, of course, I couldn’t resist. As always…thanks to Karen and Josh for the challenge that takes us around the globe. 

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

REDEMPTION

I’m Tirzah, a warrior beside Judah Maccabee, the Hammer. We resist the Greeks and we will prevail.

            I’ll never forget the day Antiochus’ men defiled our sacred altar. They sacrificed a pig. Then they slaughtered my baby brother Ezra and forced my mother carry his body, tied around her neck.  I still hear Abba’s tortured cries when they beat him. His blood splattered my face.

            My feet turned to stone until a soldier cast his lethal glare on me. “Pretty little Judean creature.” My gorge rose when he stroked my cheek with his filthy paws. He licked his lips and reached for my breast.

            I spit in his face and ran.

***

Tirzah Rabinovitz skimmed her fingertips across the rough stones of an ancient building in Lod. “1949 in the Promised Land.” She hugged her infant son Ezra. “Antiochus could not destroy us. Nor could that German pig. We will prevail.”

19 April 2019

Published April 17, 2019 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

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***

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

A SHOT IN THE DARK

Dora never took “no” for an answer. As a wife and a balabusta extraordinaire, she kept her Bronx apartment in immaculate order. With her children she was a rough taskmaster.

            She doted on her eldest son, a docile, studious boy. “Always your head’s in a book—destined for greatness.”

            She kvelled when he exceeded even her expectations.

            After his City College graduation with a Bachelor of Chemistry degree, he informed her he had set his sights on law school.

            “Lawyers are a dime a dozen, Jonas,” said Dora Salk. “Go to medical school. The world will thank you for it.”

Yiddishkeit Glossary:

balabusta – homemaker

kvell – burst with pride, to boast (What? You never kvelled over your kids? Say it isn’t so. 😉 )

***

*Remember Polio? If you don’t, Jonas Salk is the man to thank. I, for one, am grateful for those times I had to be dragged, kicking and screaming, into Dr. Cohen’s office for polio shots. A stick in the arm beats Infantile Paralysis any day of the week. 😉

CLICK HERE for MORE

SANCTUARY

Published April 7, 2019 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman takes a trip to Tbilisi, Georgia

This ancient cobblestoned city has a complicated history of Persian and Russian rule. Its diverse architecture encompasses Eastern Orthodox churches, ornate art nouveau buildings, and Soviet Modernist structures. Walk around and see what strikes your fancy.

The purpose of this prompt is to inspire you to write 150 words about this place. You can use the Google link to stroll around until you see something that strikes your fancy. When you’re done, remember to link your story to the others using the InLinkz frog below. Reading and commenting is half the fun.

Enjoy yourself and do good work!

CLICK ME! PLEASE!

I considered not participating this week. But as it often happens I found an historical nugget that couldn’t be ignored. Thank Josh for the prompt this week.

The Great Synagogue in Tbilisi, Georgia

SANCTUARY

Aaron prepared his Torah reading for his special day. “Tell me about your Bar Mitzvah, Didi Babua. Wasn’t it during terrible times?”

            “No.” Aaron’s great grandfather stroked his thick white beard. “It was a beautiful time—in this very synagogue.”

            “But you were thirteen in 1943. What about the camps? What about Hitler?”

            “May wheels run over his skull for eternity. Before me, my father read from the holy scroll in this same place in 1905.” Didi Babua’s faded brown eyes brimmed. “His family escaped from Kishinev.” He kissed the cover of his threadbare prayer book. “This has been our safe haven for five generations.”

            “Were there never any pogroms?”

            “According to our rabbis, anti-Semitism has been unknown here in Tbilisi for twenty-six centuries. Enough questions already. Study hard and make me proud.”

            Grinning, the boy read, “Hodu L’adoshem ki tov, give thanks to Adoshem for He is good!”  

 

5 April 2019

Published April 3, 2019 by rochellewisoff

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As always, please be considerate of your fellow Fictioneers and keep your stories to 100 words. (Title is not included in the word count.)  Many thanks. 

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 © Ronda Del Boccio

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

BEYOND THE BUCKSKIN CURTAIN

Wide-mouthed comic, Joe E. Brown gave Harry a movie extras card. “You oughta be in pictures, handsome.”

            Harry had gained notoriety in boxing, wrestling, and lacrosse. Thoughts of seeing his name up in lights enticed him.

            After playing several bit parts, he answered an audition for the new medium called television. He soon found fame to be a mixed bag of blessings and curses.  

            In 1963, Harry, now known as Jay Silverheels, founded the Indian Actors Workshop to encourage aspiring Indigenous performers to shoot for roles with better lines than, “Sheriff have sickness in head, Kemosabe—cannot fix with medicine.”   

To learn a little more about this Canadian-born hero CLICK HERE

 

 

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22 March 2019

Published March 20, 2019 by rochellewisoff

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The following is the PHOTO PROMPT. Express permission is given for the purpose of Friday Fictioneers only. It is proper etiquette to give credit to the photographer/contributor. Thank you. 

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

 

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Genre: Historical Fiction circa 1950

Word Count: 100

MOONS AND JUNES AND FERRIS WHEELS

Eighteen-year-old Tammy set the cake on the table. “Seventy-five candles, Grammy.”  

Phoebe blew with all her might. “Wish James was here to celebrate with us.” Winded, she leaned back and shut her eyes. “We met in 1893. I was your age.

***

“May I sit here, Miss?”

Phoebe gazed into his startling blue eyes. “Certainly.”

“Think this contraption is safe?”

From their car at the top of the observation wheel, an unheard of 264 feet, she took in the whole fair. Heart pounding, she grasped his hand. He squeezed hers.

***

Tammy squeezed Phoebe’s stiff hand. “Give Gramps a kiss for me.”

 

For a little more about the Ferris Wheel CLICK HERE

The original Ferris Wheel at the Chicago Worlds Fair in 1893

15 March 2019

Published March 13, 2019 by rochellewisoff

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The following photo is the PROMPT. It is proper etiquette to give credit where credit is due. Thank you.

PHOTO PROMPT © Anshu Bhojnagarwala

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The following is a snippet from my books AS ONE MUST ONE CAN and A STONE FOR THE JOURNEY. Rachel is a favorite character of mine. Perhaps I’ll write a novel about her in the future. At the very least, a short story. 😉

Genre: Historical Fiction circa 1907

Word Count! 100

SHORTSIGHTED 

Miss Kline glanced at three-year-old Rachel and back at Havah. “She’s—”

            “Blind.” Rachel grinned. “I don’t have floppy nerves.”

            “Optic nerves,” said Havah.

            “May I play piano for Miss Kline, Mommy?”

            “Play something pretty.”

            Rachel’s dog led her to the upright piano and lay down next to it so Rachel could use her for a step stool.

            “Surely you don’t allow her to bang on that lovely instrument,” whispered Miss Kline.

            Havah smiled but said nothing. Rachel danced her tiny fingers across the keys.

            Miss Kline clapped her hand over her mouth. “Bless my soul, it’s… it’s… Bach’s ‘Musette’!”

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INDISTINCT

Published February 23, 2019 by rochellewisoff

A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend.  How you use the prompt is up to you.  Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like.  Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise.  If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in the comments.

Thanks to Sammi Cox for the challenge. 

Word Prompt

Indistinct

This week is a snippet from my WIP “What the Heart Wants.”

The shop dissolved into a miasma of indistinct outline and shadow. Asher saw only Papa’s oozing, hollow eyes.

Kishinev slaughter
Kishinev Pogrom 1903

22 February 2019

Published February 20, 2019 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 © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

get the InLinkz code

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

AWAKENED AND STIRRED

“You admit to helping to spread leaflets for those subversives calling themselves The White Rose?”

            “What we wrote and said is also believed by many others. They just don’t dare express themselves as we did. And I would do it again.”

            Swastika flag draped behind him, the judge stood and shook his fist. “For your crimes you’ve been sentenced this 22nd day of February 1943.”

            “As you will be judged for yours.”

            Schubert’s “Andantino” played in twenty-one-year-old Sophie Scholl’s mind. Birds sang and the whole of creation called joyfully to her as she trembled before the guillotine, head held high.

 

*Note: This Friday is February 22, 2019 …76 years to the day Sophie, her brother Hans and his friend Christof were executed for standing up to Nazi barbarism. May their memories be blessed. 

Sophie Scholl

***

The following video I add “just because.” The fact is the Nazis often forced Jewish musicians to accompany the condemned to the gas chambers. It’s long and not directly related to the story. To me it seemed to fit. Listen or not.

 

THE GOLDEN LOTUS

Published February 16, 2019 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman is in the Jaingxi province of China. There are a few more photosheres available than the last time I went searching in this area. Hopefully you can find something that inspires you. I had trouble getting to this area through the main Google maps, but you are free to try for yourself.

Your mission is to write up to 150 words inspired by the prompt. Whether you write fiction, poetry, sonnet, limerick or essay is completely up to you. Once your piece is polished, share it with others using the linkup below. Reading and commenting is part of the fun!

Thanks to Karen and Josh for hosting this weekly cruise.

During China’s Song Dynasty (970 – 1260), seen as property,  a woman’s sole purpose was to please her husband.  Officially sanctioned, foot-binding became the essence of feminine beauty. The smaller a woman’s foot, the better her chances of marrying well. The practice continued into the 20th century until China came under Communist rule.

To learn more CLICK HERE

It’s always fun to take on oldie out of mothballs and give it a fresh look. I first posted a version of this story in January 2013 for Friday Fictioneers.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

THE GOLDEN LOTUS

Bones bound and crushed in childhood, Zhen Xi’s feet fit a man’s palm. Such prized feet represented wealth and social status. Although the pain was often unbearable, she enjoyed the attention she garnered from the young men.

            It came as no surprise when her youthful beauty caught wizened warlord Han Donhai’s eye.

            She begged her father. “Please don’t make me marry him. Chan Ho is my true love.”

            “We are poor. It is not for you to love.”

            Every night she endured beatings following Han Donhai’s inadequacy. She feared she would ultimately suffer the same fate as three past wives who died under his sword for their failure to conceive.   

            Seven months after the wedding, fireworks spangled the sky in celebration of Donhai’s nine pound heir.

            Hours later he wielded his blade over her head. “You faithless whore!”                  

            She smiled. Her child would live while her unbound spirit ran free.

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