15 July 2022

Published July 13, 2022 by rochellewisoff

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Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

HE NEVER GOT A DINNER

Papa put the finishing touches on a straw hat, placed it on his head and, to little Aaron’s delight, broke into a soft shoe.

Mr. Jerwick applauded and laughed. “I’ll take the hat, Mr. Chwatt. But I’m no dancer.”

“Hey Pop,” said sixteen-year-old Aaron. “Check out my uniform for my new job.”

“Doing what? So many buttons.”

“I’m a singing bell boy.” Aaron raked his fingers through his wavy red hair. “Making people smile—like you, Pop. And how about my stage name?”

From Vaudeville to Broadway and film, history will forever remember award-winning entertainer Red Buttons with a smile.

Aaron Chwatt was the son of Jewish immigrants. His father, Michael Chwatt made his living as a milliner in New York’s Lower East Side who enjoyed entertaining his customers.

RED BUTTONS NEVER GOT A DINNER

1 July 2022

Published June 29, 2022 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.

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

BLUMEN

I trembled with nine-year-old excitement as I presented the flowers. Their sweet fragrance filled my nostrils as I curtsied.

The new chancellor smiled and said, “Danke schön meine Liebchen.”

When I made my way back through the crowd to my classmates, my friend Ilsa hugged me, her blue eyes sparkling. “How lucky you are to be chosen.”

Soon after that day, my family and I packed all the belongings we could carry and moved away from Germany.

Lucky? Jah. Never will I forget his cold eyes. What would the Führer have said had he known this flower girl was Jewish?

3 June 2022

Published June 1, 2022 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.

Genre: Historical Fiction circa 1935
Word Count: 100

MAY THE SCHWARTZ BE WITH YOU

Nine-year-old Melvyn Kaminsky held his breath as he stood by the tenement window watching for Uncle Joe’s checkered cab. He could always tell when it was his uncle’s because he was so short the cab appeared to be driverless.

Uncle Joe’s friend gave him two complimentary tickets for a Broadway play— Anything Goes by the great Cole Porter, starring Ethel Merman.

Melvyn hid on the cab’s floor so Uncle Joe wouldn’t get in trouble for giving out free rides.

From the dizzying last row of the second balcony, the future Mel Brooks decided there was no business like show business.

A FEW FACTS ABOUT MEL

6 May 2022

Published May 4, 2022 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.

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

SAY IT WITH FLOWERS

“Who was the greatest mother in the Bible?” Mama asked twelve-year-old Anna.

“Mrs. Noah.”

“Why not Jesus’ mother Mary?”

“Because Mrs. Noah looked after children and all those stinky animals for forty days and forty nights.”

Mama smiled. “I hope someone, sometime will found a memorial mother’s day commemorating her for the matchless service she renders to humanity in every field of life. She is entitled to it.”

May 10, 1908, due to Anna Jarvis’ diligent campaigning, the first Mother’s Day ceremonies were held in West Virginia and Pennsylvania. In 1914 U.S. President Woodrow Wilson made it a national holiday.

Mama’s quote isn’t fiction 😉 CLICK HERE for a brief history of Mother’s Day in the United States.

White Carnations are the official Mother’s Day Flower.

29 April 2022

Published April 27, 2022 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.

Genre: Historical Fiction/Excerpt from Work in Progress
Word Count: 100 of 16,500

CHILDHOOD LOST

Schoolboys cavorted along the cobblestone street, shoving and teasing each other after a day of boring lessons. Peter missed being one of them.

Papa approached with determined strides, head held high, and a scowl on his black-bearded face. Like the Red Sea’s parting, the children made a path for him.

Peter turned from the window and hunched over his book.

Taking rolls from the oven, Mama clutched her rounded belly. “Son, come help me.”

He rose and took the pan from her, breathing in the yeasty aroma.

Papa burst through the door. “Peter! Lazy oaf. Get back to your lessons.”

22 April 2022

Published April 20, 2022 by rochellewisoff

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Género: Ficción Histórical
El recuento de palabras: 100

SINFONÍA VISUAL

Carlos hunched over the piano, hands over his ears, tears stinging his eyes. “No puedo oír la música. Mi vida se acabó.”

“Mi hijo, you’re only fifteen. So you cannot hear so well. Your life isn’t over. It is just beginning.” Papa opened a case containing tubes of color and various-sized brushes. “Your art teacher says you show gran potential.”

Carlos rolled a brush between his fingers. “I will paint—everything!”

___

51 years later, in 1958, Delilah Mérida beamed when the Guatemalan government honored Carlos’ artistic achievement with the Order of the Quetzal. “My husband makes music for the eyes.”

To Know More CLICK

1 April 2022

Published March 30, 2022 by rochellewisoff

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SLAM DUNK

Marquis skimmed his ledger and smiled. Sales for his rubber-soled canvas shoes were on the rise. Mentally, he patted himself on the back. No one would have to slip on wet stairs and injure themselves as he had.

His secretary entered. “There’s a young man here to see you, sir. Says it’s a matter of great importance. He looks like a kid.”

“Send him in.”

A tall lanky youth hobbled toward the desk. Marquis rose and offered his hand. “What can I do for you, Mr.—”

“Taylor. Chuck Taylor. Please, Mr. Converse, could you design a comfortable basketball shoe?”

25 March 2022

Published March 23, 2022 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.

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

RECLAMATION

I am Uzit, a warrior beside Yehuda Maccabee, the Hammer.

I shall never forget how Antiochus’ men defiled our sacred altar with a pig. They slaughtered my baby brother Ezra and made my mother carry his body around her neck.

A soldier cast his lethal eyes on me. “What a pretty little Judean creature.”

I replied with my sword.

We resisted the Greeks, and we prevailed.

***

Uzit Rabinowitz skimmed her fingers over the rough stones of an ancient building. “1949 in the Promised Land.” She caressed her infant son Ezra. “Antiochus couldn’t destroy us. Nor could the Führer. We prevailed.”

11 March 2022

Published March 9, 2022 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.

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100
A tribute to all the “Uncles and Aunts” who risked their own lives to save others.

SAFEKEEPING

Shira slipped a worn photo of a smiling two-year-old from her pocket that, like she, had managed to survive hell. Had Hans kept his promise? Trembling, she knocked on the cottage door.

It opened. “Danke Gott!” A stout man with ruddy cheeks embraced her. “Ilsa, who is this lady?”

A five-year-old clung to his leg. “I don’t know, Uncle Hans.”

Shira knelt. “Don’t you remember me?”

Ilsa shook her head and stared at the numbers on Shira’s forearm.

Shira’s heart sank. “Oy, meyn kleyn ketzl.”

“Momma katz?” Ilsa threw her arms around Shira’s neck. “I knew you’d come for me.”

*Oy meyn kleyn ketzl – Oh, my little kitten”

CLICK HERE to learn more.

4 March 2022

Published March 2, 2022 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.

Last week the photo leaned. Sorry for all the stiff necks and vertigo this might have caused. 😉 This week this famous structure really is leaning. Study the prompt and come out writing. 😀

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

LAW OF CONSTANT ACCELERATION

“What do you think, Signor Viviani?” Galileo’s eyes twinkled. “The ball in my right hand weighs less than the one in my left. Which will hit the ground first?”

Vincenzo looked over the railing to the street below. The lean of the tower made him dizzy. “I believe the heavier ball.”

“It’s one thing to believe something is true. But has anyone proved it?”

Careful not to strike an unsuspecting pedestrian; Galileo released the balls. Vincenzo marveled. “They hit simultaneously, Maestro.”

Galileo flashed a triumphant smile. “As I suspected. Another question, my young discepolo—what shall we eat for lunch?”