9 May 2025

Published May 7, 2025 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Lisa Fox

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I admit this is quite similar to a story/rant i wrote five years ago February Nothing’s changed. If anything things have only gotten worse. So you may refer this as a sequel.

Genre: Anectdotal Rant
Word Count: 100

ONE PILL CAN KILL

Every day a new one appears. If you live in these Divided States, you know what I’m talking about. Prescription drug advertisements.

Who comes up with those colorful names? They’re insane, usually starting with the letters X and Z. They treat everything from obesity to bipolar disorder.

Ya gotta love ‘em—from bright and breezy to sensual and sleezy. They all make me queasy. While happy people prance across the screen celebrating life, the gentle voice over recites a list of possible side effects.

Wait! I got lost somewhere between anaphylaxis and cardiac arrest. What was this supposed to treat?

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Okay, this one starts with A. But it’s pretty much what I’m talking about.

2 May 2025

Published April 30, 2025 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Ken Arnopole (friend of Ted Strutz)

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Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

GENERATIONS RUNNIN’ WILD

Joanna checked her reflection in the full-length mirror. Her white go-go boots offset her mini dress. Swaying her hips she practiced moving to the Jerk and the Watusi. Tonight, she would dance the night away.

Granny Maybelle’s voice startled her. “In my day young ladies didn’t do such suggestive dances.”

Joanna pointed to a photo of young Maybelle in a fringed dress. “What about the Charleston in the 1920’s?”

Blushing, Granny shook her head. “That dance swept the country like wildfire. Not so different from these 1960’s I suppose. But I’ll have you know I was quite good at it!”

And a little history of the dance if you care to READ ON. 😉

25 April 2025

Published April 23, 2025 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

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Genre: Novel Excerpt
Word Count: 100

BRAIN FOG

Elise’s cheeks blazed against the cold tile. The last thing she remembered was writing a check at the register when a wave of nausea and lightheadedness swept over her. The helpless feeling of losing control as she lost consciousness rushed back. She squirmed, wishing she could dissolve between the cracks. How many of those “gentle action” pink pills had she taken in anticipation of dinner?

You know you’re too damn smart for your own good,” her frustrated support group leader had snapped at her night before last. “Why do you even bother coming to meetings anyway?”

To learn new tricks…

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Screen Shot…to watch the interview Click the link below. 😉

To read my friend Diane Yates’ blog and watch our interview CLICK HERE

18 April 2025

Published April 16, 2025 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

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Genre: Fiction
Word Count:100

TRUTH, JUSTICE, AND A BETTER TOMORROW

Mia and Tommy entered the comic book shop. He went right to the Superman section. “Ooh, this one’s vintage. From 1942. Wow! He’s changing from Clark Kent to Superman in a phone booth. What’s a phone booth?”

“It was an eight-foot box where people could pay to make telephone calls when they were out and about.”

“Why didn’t they use their cell phones?”

“Cell phones weren’t invented yet, Goofy.”

As they exited the shop, Tommy pointed. “Look, Sis! Up in the sky! It’s a bird! It’s a plane! It’s Superman!”

Mia rolled her eyes. “You dork. It is a bird.”

Below is the intro to one of my favorite TV shows as a small child. Incidentally in 104 episodes of this program, Clark Kent never once changed clothes in a phone booth. Great Caesar’s Ghost!

11 April 2025

Published April 9, 2025 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Nancy Richy

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PLANT-BASED REALITY?

I was nine years old when I saw Day of the Triffids, a movie about man-eating plants. They crashed through windows and chomped off heads of unsuspecting humans, engulfing the world in an avalanche of terror.

Eighteen years ago, after surgery, my husband was gifted with a houseplant. Pothos—known for its tenacity. It grew from one end of our living room to the other, until an accident broke off its long tendrils.

Still, it thrives.

Maybe it’s my wild imagination, but should I be concerned about those chomping noises I sometimes hear in the middle of the night?

Does anyone remember this?

4 April 2025

Published April 2, 2025 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Jennifer Pendergast

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I’m indulging in a bit more of an intro than usual. I want to share how I got from Jen’s photo to the story I ended up with. At first, I zeroed in on the game Sorry which I played a lot when I was a child. Later, I would play it with my kids. So naturally I Googled the history of the game and came up with George Swinnerton Parker, founder of Parker Brothers and inventor of such games as Sorry, Tiddly Winks and Monopoly. Then as I was playing Scrabble on my iPad, which I do several times a day, it occurred to me I was following the wrong thread. This story is based on my own family history. 😉

Genre: Anecdote
Word Count:100

GAME ON

In 1948 James Brunot redesigned the game Criss Cross and renamed it Scrabble. It was first marketed in Great Britain in 1954.

My parents played on otherwise quiet evenings.

Mom was an avid crossword puzzle worker. Dad’s vocabulary didn’t compare to hers.

She spelled out, “QUA”

“What the hell is that? I challenge!” Flipping through dictionary, he muttered, “Oh, here it is, ‘being; in the character of’” Then he played his tiles. “SCREAM. Double word. Beat that, Mrs. Know-it-all.”

Mom added five letters to QUA to form SQUABBLE. “Triple word and my name for this game. I win. I quit.”

28 March 2025

Published March 26, 2025 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

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INVISIBLE WARRIOR

The second world war to end all wars raged. Thousands of young men were invited by their draft boards to participate.

Eighteen-year-old Susan read a want-ad in the Baltimore Sun. “Eastern Aircraft is hiring women to be riveters.”

“That’s no job for a lady,” said Mama.

“It could pay my way to college.”

Determined, Susan joined 600,000 black women.

“We ladies worked together as an integrated America.” Ninety-nine-year-old Susan Taylor King, who’d earned two college degrees from Morgan University, told reporters. She fingered her red polka-dotted neckerchief with pride. “I’ve lived long enough to be black and important in America.”

21 March 2025

Published March 19, 2025 by rochellewisoff

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Genre: Fiction
Word Count: 100

SHINE ON

Granddaddy leaned back in his threadbare recliner. The faraway gleam in his faded blue eyes told me a story was coming.

“Ginger stew. Mommy mixed in brown sugar and ginger. According to her it’d cure jest about anything.

“Rainwater made the best moonshine. And ya needed good tree cover in the woods. A-course it weren’t legal. We was always lookin’ over our shoulders for the law.”

“Why’d ya do it?” I gasped. “Wasn’t ya scared?”

“It was our cash crop. Scared? Nah. It’s like dating a woman that’s married,” he chuckled. “If it ain’t got risk, it ain’t no fun.”

14 March 2025

Published March 12, 2025 by rochellewisoff

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Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

WHAT HAVE WE LEARNED FROM THIS?

Thirteen-year-old Pieter woke up to silence. Had everyone died? Clawing at fleabites, he waited for the camp guards to come with their clubs. Hunger gnawed at his empty stomach.

Beside him, Heinrich sat up. “What’s happening?”

Pieter rushed to the front gate, followed by his friends Heinrich and Vlad.

A Russian soldier on the other side of the gate, shot off the padlock. “Doctors, food and medication will be coming soon.”

That night, for the first time in a year, Pieter, freshly showered and fed, embraced the joy of freedom while fighting off grief and nightmares in a soft bed.

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The following song would later unofficially become Israel’s National anthem in 1948 and officially in 2004. Hatikvah means “The Hope.”

7 March 2025

Published March 5, 2025 by rochellewisoff

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Genre: Anecdote
Word Count:100

FOR WHAT IT’S WORTH

“Something’s happening here. What it is ain’t exactly clear.”

My thoughts scatter this morning like bits of flotsam, jetsam and lagan. The news blares in my ears and assaults my mind. Opinions swirl and spin with tornadic force. As the saying goes, everybody has one…nu?

Meanwhile, I’m gagging on social media fast food.

Yes. I have my own views. I don’t care to get into a virtual shouting match. Speak to me in private. I’ll say what I think. Or maybe I won’t. I hope we can still be friends. If not, perhaps we were never friends to begin with.