All posts in the Humor category


Published March 11, 2018 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman takes us to Abaco, Bahamas. You won’t find much in the way of streetview out in this neck of the Bahamas. Mainly because you won’t find much in the way of streets. You can use the photo provided, or dangle Pegman over the map to find your own slice of paradise.

Your mission is to write 150 words inspired by what you find. Will you treat us to comedy? Tragedy? Sci Fi Slipstream Historical Fiction? Your only limit is your imagination. And of course the previously mentioned 150 words. Once you’ve polished your story-poem-essay, share it with other Pegman contributors using the link up below.

The pictures of the beaches and the ocean took me back to the Virgin Islands where I fell in love with snorkeling 😀 My story has absolutely nothing to do with that. 😉 As always thank you to Karen and Josh for facilitating the challenge that keeps drawing me in for the extra 50 word plunge.

Genre: Speculative Fantasy

Word Count: 150


            “You never cease to amaze me,” said Dale.

            Shrugging my blazing shoulders, I replied. “You mean my faulty memory? Oy, I wish I’d remembered my sunscreen this afternoon.”

            Waves gently lapped the shore as sand and water squished between my bare toes. Moonlight sparkled on the water like sequins under a spotlight.

            Dreams of meeting my friend sans Skype screen had finally become a reality. Nights of girl-talk followed days of sightseeing, sampling Bahamian food and snorkeling.

            “Thanks for accompanying me to services tonight,” I said.

            “Wouldn’t have missed it. I loved the music.”

            “The shul’s named after Luis de Torres, Christopher Columbus’ interpreter—first Jew to set foot on the island—a Marrano—convert. 1492 was the middle of the Inquisition so his choices were become a Catholic or—”

            “Leave it to you.”


            “One synagogue, 50 Jews and you managed to find them.”

            “Shabbat shalom, mon amie.”          




Yep, I did find one. Maybe someday I’ll really get to visit it (and Dale) in person.

9 February 2018

Published February 7, 2018 by rochellewisoff

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“Reciprocity is the glue that holds communities together.” – Neil MacDonald

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. 


Please be respectful and keep your stories to 100 words. Thank you. 

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Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100


            Yellow Tangs and Blue-violet perch floated before Elise, unconcerned by her presence. Sunrays beamed through the crystal ceiling, illuminating purple fan coral that swayed to and fro like dancers. Palming the water, she somersaulted and dove deeper, chasing schools of glistening fish.

            She flipped again, but before she could right herself, long tendrils of seaweed twisted around her wrists and ankles. Try and tug though she might, the plants held tight.

            With a gasp, she woke amid tangled blankets and bedsheets. “Roger Miller was right. You can’t roller-skate in a buffalo herd and you can’t go swimming in queen-size bed.”  





And Just for Fun 😉 😀


Published January 20, 2018 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman takes us to Haiti’s neighbor, the Dominican Republic, in the central Caribbean. Feel free to use the crazy capture I posted, or find your own photo sphere anywhere within the country’s borders.

Your assignment is to produce 150 words (or less) inspired by this week’s location. Will it be fiction? Essay? Poetry? The only limit is your imagination. After you’ve polished your piece, you can share it with other participants at the link up:

I’m back after being MIA last week and probably will be a few more times. However, when I saw Dominican Republic in my inbox I was hooked. 

Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 150


                There’s a special place in my heart for the Dominican Republic. However, not in the way one might think. I’ve never played on the sandy beaches of Santo Domingo nor lounged under its palm trees beside the Caribbean Sea.

            From 1964-65 I was in 6th grade. Our teacher, Mrs. Humo, assigned each student a country to study for the entire school year. This included keeping track of current events.

            Those lucky ducks given Laos and Vietnam, as you might imagine, had much to report and clipped tons of newspaper articles. Not so for the hapless girl assigned the República Dominicana.

            I diligently studied, drew detailed maps and combed the Kansas City Star for any news of my tiny tropical island. Nada.

            The following spring, after I’d moved on to the trials of junior high, revolution broke out. The Dominican Republic headlined the news. What? They couldn’t have revolted last year?

19 January 2018

Published January 17, 2018 by rochellewisoff

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“The key to building an audience is reading and commenting others’ works.” Russell Gayer

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

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As the new year has begun, I need to concentrate on my coffee table book. (I hope you’re not tired of hearing about it.) 

There are always those scenes on the cutting room floor. Here’s one that didn’t make it into AS ONE MUST, ONE CAN. It’s edited from over 200 words as well. The lesson to be learned here is ‘never throw anything away.’ 😉 

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100


            Guilt niggled Havah for watching Vaudeville at Electric Park on the Sabbath. But didn’t the Book say laughter is good for the soul?

            Jugglers wearing gaudy costumes spun plates on sticks. Acrobats in skintight outfits flipped in midair.

            Havah marveled when the magician made a pair of turtledoves appear out of nowhere.

            “It’s called sleight of hand.” Itzak shrugged. “He probably had them stuffed in his trousers.”  

            “Who cares? He’s amazing!”

            Next the trickster’s dog pointed to letters on cards with his paw to spell out his name—P-I-L-U.

            In a stage whisper, Itzak said, “Glad his name isn’t Constantinople.”


12 January 2017

Published January 10, 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. 

Out of consideration for your readers/fellow writers, please keep your stories to 100 words. Thank you and shalom. 

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100


            “It’s a great role, awesome potential,” said Fred. “Who knows? Could make you a star.”

            Apprehension flooded Adam. “I’m trying to have a serious career.”

            “You call spaghetti westerns and chocolate milk commercials serious? C’mon, kid, whaddya got to lose?”

            “All right, it can’t hurt to read the script.”

            Weeks later, Adam slid tights over his muscular legs. “No one’s going to buy this.”

            Securing the long cape, he flexed his toned pectorals and grinned at his reflection through his cowl’s eye openings. “Not bad.”

            As Adam West emerged from his dressing room, Burt Ward shouted, “Holy guano, it’s Batman!”




Here’s one of those commercials that led to the creation of an icon:

Toodle-loo, Mr. West. 

The Dynamic Duo: Burt Ward as Robin & Adam West as Batman



50 Happy Things 2018: Bloggers Unite to Flood the Internet With Gratitude

Published January 2, 2018 by rochellewisoff

Thanks to Dawn Landau for making Gratitude a New Year’s Tradition. I’m happy to be taking part once more. 

“For the fourth year in a row, this is an opportunity to hit pause and focus on all the good things that each of us has in our lives. The holiday season has a way of rushing in, every year, and making it hard to remember that throughout the year, there are blessings. There are so many things that bring joy, so many happy things; yet it’s easy to find to lose sight of this fact, as we manage busy lives.”

To take part, set your timer for ten minutes and write 50 things you are grateful for. Once I started it was hard to stop. 

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  1. My home – just celebrated our tenth year in our dream home. 
  2. My husband – 46 years of marriage. 
  3. My 3 sons who have all grown to be men I’m proud of. 
  4. My granddaughter Olive
  5. Her new sister Elsie born on my dad’s birthday, 12 November 2017
  6. Olive’s adorable dog, Poppy
  7. Friday Fictioneers – I’ve made so many friends through sharing stories, learning how similar we are in our hopes and dreams no matter where we’re from. 
  8. What Pegman Saw…I took part in it this past year. Nice to have a different prompt and 50 extra words to play with.
  9. My health
  10. A nearby place to swim
  11. The joy of swimming a mile, flip turning at each end of the pool
  12. Counting backwards in Hebrew and Spanish to keep track of my pool lengths
  13. My elliptical trainer for those times it’s too cold to get out of the house
  14. A good hot shower after a hearty workout
  15. A warm cozy room that serves as office and studio
  16. Strong, hot black coffee in the wee morning hours when it’s still dark outside
  17. My G-d who speaks in a still small voice during those quiet times
  18. Abundance of healthy foods
  19. A sense of humor, the ability to laugh at myself
  20. My friends and family who’ll laugh at me if I don’t.
  21. My synagogue
  22. My dancing friends on our synagogue dance team
  23. My rabbi, who knows the value of a good pun
  24. My blogging friends
  25. The internet and Skype friends around the globe
  26. The ability to make people happy with my writing and art – I say this with gratitude for the feedback from others
  27. My 6-speed Chevy Cruz that’s paid for
  28. No longer having to punch a clock and the privilege of doing what I dreamed of doing as a child, ie being a professional artist
  29. Some successful book signings and art fairs.
  30. A growing number of art commissions.
  31. Books to read and lose myself in
  32. Music, all kinds (I won’t deny it, I love classical…particularly Chopin).
  33. Being able to read and write Hebrew (more or less)
  34. Taking time to enjoy the quiet
  35. Good paintbrushes
  36. My computers: desktop and laptop
  37. Legs that still work
  38. Smelling fragrances and odors, it means my olfactories works
  39. The color PURPLE
  40. Other colors beside purple 😉
  41. The fresh smell after a rainstorm
  42. Flowers, Daffodils being my favorite
  43. My muse who tells me stories when I least expect it
  44. My spinning mind that decides to go into overdrive when I want to sleep.
  45. A good Chardonnay or Sauvignon Blanc
  46. Gluten free pasta so I don’t feel deprived
  47. Ozarks Writers League – OWL
  48. All of my Wisoff cousins I never knew I had until we discovered each other online
  49. Friends I’ve known since early childhood. It’s a rare blessing to share pictures of grandchildren with the same ‘kids’ I used to play hopscotch with
  50. I can still turn a cartwheel.

8 December 2017

Published December 6, 2017 by rochellewisoff

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Our Mantra

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

Please be respectful of your readers and keep your story to 100 words or less. 

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What if the Capulets and Montagues had reconciled? Methinks things might have gone differently for the star-crossed lovers who, to be fair, barely knew each other. My humblest apologies to the Bard. 

Genre: Histrionic Fiction

Word Count: 100


 “Aye me, what weariness besets me. This unborn babe hath thrice disturb’d my slumber. Now light through yonder kitchen window breaks and childish voices assail. No rest. No rest. Anon himself hops through my door, his teeth bared. Is my Romeo ill of health?”

“Juliette, canst thou not sweep? A child’s plaything hath dug deep into my sole.”

“Canst thou not bend thy leaden arse to retrieve it? Where is he who scaled to my bedchamber pledging his undying love?”

“Alack. Better my life had ended with poison.”

“Oh churl! Better I had run myself through with thy happy dagger.”     


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Elsie Lola Feraday-Fields

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