Humor

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THE JUMPING FLEA

Published August 13, 2017 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman takes us to Pena, Portugal.

Feel free to stroll around the area using the Google street view and grab any picture you choose to include in your post. Note that there is both streetview and photospheres at this location.

To enjoy stories inspired by the What Pegman Saw prompt or to submit your own 150-word story, visit the inLinkz button:

For guidelines and rules for the What Pegman Saw weekly writing prompt, visit the home page.

Thanks to J Hardy Carroll and K Rawson for hosting this unique challenge and for giving me an extra 50 words to play with each week. 

This week I brought back one that I posted three years ago in Friday Fictioneers and added 50 words to it. I enjoyed the rewrite, I hope you enjoy the reread. 😉 

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

THE JUMPING FLEA

            “Better to harvest the sugarcane fields in Hawaii than starve in Madeira,” João Fernandes told his reluctant wife. “You’ll see, we will have a better life there.”

            “Portugal is home. Português is the only language we speak.”

            “We’ll build a new home and learn a new language.”           

            During the monotonous, sometimes perilous, four months at sea she spent most of her time retching over the side of the ship.  He, on the other hand, entertained his fellow immigrants on the braguinha.

____

            Enamored with the new music form and João’s lively style, the Hawaiians treated him and his little guitar like royalty. Even Queen Lili’uokalani requested private evening concerts.

            One lonely night, homesick for her mountains, Senhora Fernandes waited up for him.

            At long last, he burst through the door. “Behold the queen’s favorite musician!”

            She seized his ukulele and smashed it to pieces over his head. “Behold your instrument!”

***

For your listening pleasure. It’s kind of long but, if you have an extra 6 minutes to spare. This is no tiptoe through the tulips.

11 August 2017

Published August 9, 2017 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© CEAyr

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

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

FORWARD PASS

            On an early November morning in 1909, Charles Stewart walked the deserted Kansas City cross-streets of Locust and Eighth. Weary after his team’s defeat, he reached his hotel. Throat raw, loyal fan that he was, he entered his enclosed hallway and cut loose.

            “Rock chalk Jayhawk…!”

            The next day, expecting the usual chastisement for his rowdy behavior, he met instead with cheers from other guests proclaiming him a hero.

            Mr. Blank slapped the bewildered youth’s back. “Had it not been for your caterwauling, a burglar and his buddy would’ve robbed us all blind. You scared the bejabbers out of them.”         

 

*Originally the cheer was created for KU’s (Kansas University in Lawrence, Kansas) science club by chemistry professor E. H. Bailey in 1886. Former President Theodore Roosevelt proclaimed it the greatest college chant of all time. Give a listen to what some have referred to as chilling. 😉 

Click HERE to check out my new page. 

HOW IS MY DRIVING?

Published July 19, 2017 by rochellewisoff

 

PHOTO PROMPT © Kent Bonham

Kent’s photo put me back on that tour bus with Zvi. Normally I eschew Friday Fictioneers sequels or double dipping. With red, although unapologetic, countenance I am doing both this week. 🙄

Genre: Memoir/Anecdote

Word Count: 100

HOW IS MY DRIVING?

            A rather shy man, our Israeli bus driver, Gabi had a welcoming smile for everyone. Every day we spoke, he in halting English and I in limited Hebrew.

            What a driver! He maneuvered that behemoth through narrow streets I wouldn’t dare attempt to navigate in my Saturn. I was reminded of cartoon car chases where vehicles curved around corners like Gumby.

            My seatmate grasped the armrest, her knuckles white. “He must ride a motorcycle.”   

            “Ahtah rokhev al ofanoah?” I asked him.

            His sunny expression gave way to horror. “Lo! Mesukahn! Mesukahn!” He flashed his pocket translator which read, “Dangerous! Perilous!”

****

Aych ahnee noheg? How is my driving?

Gabi

21 July 2017

Published July 19, 2017 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 © Kent Bonham

Please be considerate and try to keep your stories to 100 WORDS. Thank you. 

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Genre: Anecdote

Word Count: 100

INCARNATE

            Most people I know have fond memories of their first automobile. Mine was a used 1971 royal blue Volkswagen Beetle. Fun size—like me.

            My father hated it. “A Jew has no business driving a Nazi-mobile.”

            The kids loved to sit in the ‘back-back,’ a mini cargo hold behind the rear seat and the bug was easy to maneuver. I enjoyed tootling around in it until the clutch went out. The heater worked great—all summer. Other quirks included slowing to a crawl at busy intersections while I floored the gas pedal and prayed.

            Could Dad have been onto something?

7 July 2017

Published July 5, 2017 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 © Claire Sheldon

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Genre: Hysterical Fiction

Word Count: 100

GEM OF AN IDEA

            Darren scratched his ear with a straightened paperclip. Gina slapped it from his hand. “Stop! You’ll perforate your eardrum!”

            “Then I won’t havta hear your nagging.”

            “Ohhh, just do your homework.”

            “Do your own.” He rolled his eyes. “Sisters.”

            “My report’s done.” She stacked three typewritten pages and paper-clipped the corners together. “Consider the lowly paperclip. Know who invented it?”

            “Who cares?”

            “Some think it was Johan Vaaler, a Norwegian. But it was actually an American, William D. Middlebrook, who even patented the machine to make them in 1899. Whaddya think?”  

            “I think you need to get a life.”

*

*

30 June 2017

Published June 28, 2017 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 © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 100

“I AM STILL ZVI.”

He smiled from his front seat on the bus. Zvi obviously enjoyed his job—introducing a group of dusty pilgrims to Eretz Yisra’el.

“The field on the left is 100% cotton. On the right—50% polyester.”

Looking beyond his twinkling eyes, one could see the depth of his faith and commitment to his ancient homeland. I only imagined what he experienced as an IDF soldier in 1967 for he avoided speaking of it.

Eleven years later I still hear his voice and his daily greeting.  

“Today in Israel there is no rain, there is no snow. Don’t worry. Be happy.”

PRICELESS

Published June 19, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman takes us to the Burj Khalifa in Dubai.

Feel free to stroll around the area using the Google street view and grab any picture you choose to include in your post.

To enjoy stories inspired by the What Pegman Saw prompt or to submit your own 150-word story, visit the inLinkz button:

For guidelines and rules for the What Pegman Saw weekly writing prompt, visit the home page.

Thanks to K Rawson and J Hardy Carroll for heading up this challenge, one that I can’t seem to avoid. 😉 I’m not even caught up on my Friday Fictioneers reading, commenting and replying.

The Gold Souk in Dubai

Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 150

PRICELESS

            “Cash for your old gold,” boasted a reputable local jeweler.

            He set up a table at the front of the grocery store where I worked as a cake designer. There he made his offer to employees and customers alike.  

            “Wish I had something to trade in, I could use the money,” said Maggie, my coworker. “You got anything?”

            My husband is something of a jewelry junkie and bought some stunning gold pieces while stationed in Dubai during the Gulf War. Nothing I care to part with. My favorite is a simple heart ring, the symbol of storms we’ve weathered in our marriage.

            “Nah, but I wonder what this is actually worth.”

            Maggie took it and left the bakery. When she returned she tossed it on the counter. “It’s fake.”

            Isn’t it sad that a “trained professional” didn’t recognize 24 carat gold?  

            Like my daddy used to say, “It’s always something.”   

*

*

It’s rarely left my right index finger since December 1999. 24 carat gold is soft and easily bent. BUT it’s never turned my finger green.

 

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