12 October 2018

Published October 10, 2018 by rochellewisoff

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 © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

CRY OF THE HUMAN SPIRIT

Ten-year-old Annie had never ridden on a train. Cousin Anastasia said it would take her and her brother to Springfield. How odd. Stasia never kissed her before. What did Uncle John mean when he muttered, “Almshouse”?

“D’ya think Nellie and Mama and Johnny are happy in Heaven, Jimmie?” Annie asked.

His feverish snoring answered her. She wished she could see the scenery whizzing by.

“Not to worry, little one,” said her invisible faerie friend with an Irish brogue. “Someday you’ll do great things.”

“Me? How? I’m only an ignorant blind girl nobody wants.”

“Trust me, darlin’ Annie Sullivan. You will.”

Helen Keller with Annie Sullivan Macy (Teacher)

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FLIGHT THROUGH HELL

Published September 30, 2018 by rochellewisoff

Pegman did not get enough of this lovely region of Europe, so this week Pegman heads a little further west to the Douro Valley of Portugal.

This week’s suggestion comes from the talented Lish over at Up From the Ashes. Be sure head over to her blog and enjoy not just this week’s story, but her excellent poetry and other entertaining stories.

Your mission on Pegman, as always, is to write up to 150 words inspired by the prompt. Feel free to use the image supplied above, or visit the Douro Valley yourself via Google maps and find your own street view or photo sphere for inspiration. Or better yet, visit it in person, and take the rest of us Peg-people with you!

Once your story/essay/poem is finished, share it with others using the link up below. Reading and commenting on others’ work is part of the fun!

It has been a busy week and I really didn’t think I’d post a story this time. Once more, the Google trail and my muse conspired against my plans. And just when I think I’ve sussed out all “those stories,” another comes to light.

Many thanks to Karen and Josh for keeping this challenge afloat.

Synagogue in Douro…yep, I found one.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

FLIGHT THROUGH HELL

“Mue amigo, my position in the Portuguese consulate gives me the power to grant you and your wife and children visas,” said Aristides de Sousa Mendes, “and safety from the German Madman.”

Rabbi Chaim Kruger twined the end of his beard around his index finger. “Can you do the same for my brothers and sisters stranded here on the streets of Bordeaux?”

Tortured by his inability to grant his friend’s request and other personal issues, Sousa Mendes suffered a breakdown. Following a rapid recovery, he threw off the bedclothes and proclaimed, “From now on I’m giving everyone visas.”

When faced with charges of “disobeying during higher service” by the Portuguese government in 1940 he responded. “I could not differentiate between nationalities as I was obeying the dictates of humanity.”

In 1966, Sousa Mendes became the first diplomat to be recognized by Israel as one of the Righteous Among the Nations.

*

Rabbi Chaim Kruger with Sousa Mendes

One of the visas issued by Sousa Mendes

Jewish Refugees in Belgium

Simplified version of the medal given for the Righteous Among the Nations

28 September 2018

Published September 26, 2018 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 © Yvette Prior

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

THE BUTLER DID IT

Six-year-old Billy earned a bit here and there on the Post-Civil War streets of Richmond dancing for anyone who’d watch.

A passerby tossed a penny at the boy’s feet. “Cute little darky.”

Determined to be more than a ‘pickaninny,’ Billy tapped his way from Vaudeville to the Harlem, and, ultimately, to Broadway. Top hat and tails became his trademarks.

Hollywood relegated him to servant roles.

“Everything’s copacetic.” He said as he instructed his diminutive partner. “Take small steps or you know what happens.”

Slipping her lily-white hand in Bill “Bojangles” Robinson’s, Shirley Temple giggled. “Yeah, I fall on my keester.”

****

Here’s a taste of what I’m talking about:

COLLATERAL ORANGE DAMAGE

Published September 9, 2018 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman takes us to Hanoi, Vietnam. Your mission is to write up to 150 words inspired by the location. Feel free to use the image supplied with the prompt or take your own tour of Hanoi. You’ll find photosheres and a limited amount of street view in Hanoi.

Once your piece is polished, share it with others using the link up below. Reading and commenting on others work is part of the fun.

I hated to miss another week so I hope no one minds that I’m sharing something of a rerun. Not enough brain cells this morning to come up with something new. 😉 Thanks to Karen and Josh for keeping Pegman going.

This isn’t a fun piece by any stretch. Some may remember the shorter version I posted in Friday Fictioneers in February of 2016. Once more I dedicate this story to my brothers in law who both served in Vietnam and suffer the effects of Agent Orange.

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

COLLATERAL ORANGE DAMAGE

(Expanded)

“Farewell, Rob” was all I could muster as I laid my battered dog tags on his grave.

We’d been through a lot together, but in the end it wasn’t a Viet Cong bullet, but prostate cancer that got him. Doc says I’m next on the hit parade.

Please try to understand. We were soldiers following orders.

“A little defoliating agent to clear the jungle and expose the enemy.” Our commanding officers assured us. “Nothing that will harm a human.”

I’d read of the far reaching effects and wanted to check it out for myself. I booked a flight and a room in beautiful downtown Hanoi.

Last night, after taking in the sights, I visited a children’s hospital in Ho Chi Minh City. There the fruits of our labors languish with twisted or missing limbs and eyes that bulge from enlarged skulls.

We have exposed the enemy, and he is us.

Click Here for a Disturbing Illustration

7 September 2018

Published September 5, 2018 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 © Gah Learner

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

BEAUTIFUL DREAMER

Minnie stared out her window at the rising moon and yawned.

“Girl,” said Mama Mary, Minnie’s great-grandmother. “You ain’t gonna learn to read stayin’ up all night.”

“I hate school. The kids call me Minnie Crazy.”

“Tell me what’s in them visions, child?”

“I see my great-great-grandma being brung here on a slave ship. I see elephants and birds and angels.”

Minnie Evans’ visions continued to haunt her. One day, paintbrush or crayon in hand, she recreated her dreams.

Her husband Julian frowned. “Pictures don’t put food on the table.”

Minnie trembled. “God told me I havta paint or die.”

*

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Heeding the Call by Minnie Evans

In her own words:

IF THY RIGHT HAND OFFEND THEE

Published July 29, 2018 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman takes us to Kinshasa, in the Democratic Republic of the Congo.

Your mission is to write up to 150 words inspired by the location. Feel free to use the image provided in the prompt, or chose from photo spheres around Kinshasa. Once your piece is polished, share it with others using the linkup below.

Many thanks to Karen and Josh for facilitating this challenge for globetrotting writers. It’s the extra 50 words that keep me coming back. 😉

Remember – Reading and commenting on others’ work is part of the fun!

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

IF THY RIGHT HAND OFFEND THEE

August 12, 1896

Ma chérie,

I signed on for the Congo, eager to serve Leopold—to civilize the savage.

I hold your face in my heart—the celestial blue of your eyes, the curve of your fair cheek and sweetness of your lips. But this vision is no longer enough to sustain me. Forgive, my love, another face has replaced yours. It is magnificent. Brown with midnight eyes. Every whit as handsome as our own Francois and no older.

I followed orders. I lopped off his right hand for not meeting our rubber quotas. What kind of savage does this to another human being?

________

Upon entering the tent, Andre dropped to his knees. “Dear God!”

Louis tutted and pulled a blanket over their fallen comrade. “Why on earth did Thomas take his own life?”

Picking up a blood-spattered hatchet, Andre shuddered. “And how could he chop off his own hand?”

In 1896, a German journalist reported that 1,308 hands were collected in one day.

CLick HERE to watch the disturbing documentary.

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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Remember…

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.

get the InLinkz code

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.”

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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.

13 July 2018

Published July 11, 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.

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

DESTINED TO CARRY A NATION

Crumpling the telegram in her fist, Carrie flung it to the floor. Anger, coupled with grief, bubbled from the depths of her being. “That worthless excuse for a husband, Charles Gloyd. I just knew demon rum would kill the shameless sot sooner than later.”

Baby Charlien awoke to the sound of her mother’s sobs and added her own squalls. Carrie lifted her daughter into her arms and cuddled her to her breast. She softly sang, “Onward Christian soldiers, marching as to war…”

As the child’s eyes fluttered shut, Carrie whispered, “Men are nicotine soaked, beer besmirched, whiskey greased, red-eyed devils.”

“You have put me in here a cub, but I will come out roaring like a lion, and I will make all hell howl!” Carry A. Nation upon being locked in jail.

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29 June 2018

Published June 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.

get the InLinkz code

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