23 August 2019

Published August 21, 2019 by rochellewisoff

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

So I’m not blue. Click on me anyway.

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

CHEMISTRY

“He has a great personality,” said her brother Bart.

Twenty pounds overweight with no prospects, Denise agreed to a blind date.

Grant was a lulu—kinky orange hair and squinted eyes behind thick horn-rim glasses.

He fidgeted and checked his watch. “We ordered dinner an hour ago.”

“Yeah, I’m wasting away to a ton.”

“Stop it. You’re just right.”

Denise’s cheeks warmed. “Really?”

“And pretty.”

She relaxed. They chatted away like two old friends until their orders came.

“Filet of dinosaur.” She skewered her steak. “Yum.”

He flashed a dazzling smile. “Bart didn’t lie. You do have a great personality.”

PENANCE

Published August 18, 2019 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman travels to the Florida Keys at the bottom of the United States. Like the other Torch Keys, it was probably named for the native Torchwood tree.

Stroll and around and see if you can find something that interests you. When you’re done, write 150 words and link to the prompt using the frog below. Remember, reading and commenting is part of the fun!

Thanks to Josh and Karen for hosting this weekly challenge.

To play add your story click the frog.

Sunset Siesta Florida Key

This week I revisited an oldie posted for Friday Fictioneers in January of 2013. It seems to fit the prompt so I added 50 more words. 😀

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

PENANCE

Jonathan gazed at his reflection in the cracked mirror. Self-loathing flooded him. He took pen in hand, the hand that only an hour before had closed the eyes of a deceased child, still hot with fever. Imagining his beloved’s sweet countenance, Jonathan wrote:

3 December in the year of our Lord 1765

Dearest Catherine,

It is with deep regret I write that I shan’t return to England. I cannot for I would not have you plight your troth to a murderer.

Now I must remain to make amends.

At the first the savage misliked me and I feared him. But over time we became friends. Together we laughed and fished the Seminole way in this Florida paradise.

Surely these people threaten us with war. Yet it was neither my musket nor my dagger that felled my warrior brother and his son, but my white man’s curse—smallpox.

Penitently yours,

Jonathan

WHERE TWO RIVERS MEET

Published August 11, 2019 by rochellewisoff

Karen’s directive: This week Pegman takes us to Manitoba, Canada. Feel free to use the location/picture supplied with the prompt, our take your own tour of Manitoba via Google Maps and find a view to inspire you.

Your mission is to write up to 150 words inspired by the week’s location. You may write poetry, prose, or essay. Once your piece is polished, share it with others using the linkup below. Reading and commenting on others’ stories is part of the fun!

Thank you, Karen and Josh for hosting this weekly challenge.

CLICK THE FROG TO JOIN THE FUN

Here is the photo I chose from Google Maps. I hope one day to see the Northern Lights in person.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

WHERE TWO RIVERS MEET

Blue, purple and green snaked across the night sky. Stars twinkled through the brilliant colours.

Full and drowsy after the evening meal, warmed by the fire, Tantoo laid her head on her mother’s shoulder. “Tell me about the lights, Nikawi. Where do they come from?”

Nikawi stroked Tantoo’s hair. “They are the spirits dancing. See how they move in circles?”

“Nohkum says they are our beloved ancestors visiting us and we should respect them.”

“Your grandmother is a wise woman.” Nikawi’s eyes glittered. “One day we will dance with them.”

“I can hardly wait.” Tantoo yawned, her eyelids heavy with sleep. “I heard the elders say our way of life will end soon. Is this true?”

Nikawi did not reply.

The girl could not imagine it. The Nisichawayasihk had always hunted, fished and tended the land. In return Mother Earth rewarded their reverence. How could it not always be so?

WEEKEND WRITING PROMPT – SONG

Published August 10, 2019 by rochellewisoff

A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend. How you use the prompt is up to you. Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like. Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise. If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in Sammi’s comment section.

Word Prompt

Song

Challenge

LOOK AT ME

I was sixteen and he was twenty-two—the older man. He didn’t kiss like any of the, albeit few, boys I’d gone out with. His mellow voice took me captive on our first date.

He held doors for me and always walked on the outside of the sidewalk. I felt protected and cherished.

Zepi’s Pizza, our favorite haunt, provided a three-piece band and a small dance floor. When my guy held me and sang “Misty” in my ear, I was as helpless as a kitten up a tree.

“Misty” became our song and, after 50 years, I still feel protected and cherished.

*September 26 marks the 50th anniversary of our first date.

Senior Prom the night he proposed.

This was sung at our wedding.

9 August 2019

Published August 7, 2019 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 © Randy Mazie

Some of you may recognize this photo and may even think you’ve written a story for it. If you were part of Friday Fictioneers the week of December 6, 2013, you’re probably right. 😉 I’m off to visit my brother in North Carolina this week so I’m taking the liberty of posting a retread. To see the original post and who the Fictioneers were click here.

Do it! Do it! Click the frog!

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

CLOSE ENCOUNTER

Darlene rescued the tiny, squalling creature from a smelly garbage can. He squirmed and squeaked as she cuddled him on the way home.

“It’s E.T., Mommy. Can I keep him?”

“He needs special care, honey.” Mom gently wrapped him in a blanket and picked up the phone.

To Darlene’s delight, after months of social workers’ visits, Mom said, “He’s ours, sweetie, but we can’t call him E.T. What shall we name your new brother?”

“Elliott!”

Five years later, when Elliott scribbled green flying saucers all over her math homework, Darlene screamed, “You little monster! You really are from outer space.”

***

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SABBATICAL

Published August 3, 2019 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman takes us to the Black Hills in South Dakota in the West-Midwest, United States. Your mission is to write up to 150 words inspired by the prompt. Once your piece is polished, share it with others using the linkup below. Reading and commenting on others’ work is part of the fun!

It has been a while since I’ve participated in What Pegman Saw. Busy times lately and not a lot of extra headspace. However the location is hard to avoid since my husband is currently in South Dakota for Bike Week in Sturgis.

Thanks to Karen and Josh for facilitating the challenge. 😀

Spearfish Canyon SD Copyright Jan Wayne Fields

Genre: Personal Musing

Word Count: 150

SABBATICAL

He spent months plotting and planning his annual trip to Sturgis, the Mecca of motorcycle enthusiasts. He hadn’t missed Bike Week in years.

“Should I take my big tent? Where are the sheets to fit my cot?”

She peered at him around her easel. “Linen closet.”

Silence ensued until…

“Hey Honey?”

She rinsed out her brush. “Hey what-y”

The daily exchange continued until departure time arrived. He’d repacked his trailer no less than three times, arranging necessary items.

Clad in leathers and helmet, he struck a pose. “Take my picture.”

After mounting his two-wheeled stallion, he kissed her goodbye. She stood in the driveway and waved as he motored down the street. He would return refreshed in two weeks with stories and photos of South Dakota.

Friends often asked her, “Why don’t you go with him?”

She typed a new chapter to her latest work-in-progress. “To each their own vacation.”

All things considered I’d rather be swimming.

Weekend Writing Prompt – ANTIPATHY

Published August 3, 2019 by rochellewisoff

A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend. How you use the prompt is up to you. Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like. Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise. If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in Sammi’s comment section.

Word Prompt

This week my title factors into the word count.

ANTIPATHY IN LOVE

We are complete opposites. Most of our passions differ. Our friends and parents gave us six months, if that. Yet, after forty-eight years, my bed is his.

2 August 2019

Published July 31, 2019 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.

CLICK ON THE FROGGY. (Go ahead! Do it!)

Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 100

I wrote the following story in my husband’s voice. Ray’s his best friend from junior high into the present.

LOVE IS ALWAYS ON TIME

There’s an old saying. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

A year ago, I set my best friend Ray up with my girlfriend’s sister Vicky on a blind date.

A month ago Ray and Vicky tied the knot while I was at sea, care of the US Navy. While the war in Vietnam raged my flat-footed 4-F friend and his bride welcomed Peggy Sue.

Last week cancer claimed Vicky. At her sendoff, half the church teemed with her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

The truth is time speeds by with the velocity of a twin-engine jet whether fun’s involved or not.

Vicky lost her battle with cancer June 26, 2019.

Stills family in the 90’s

The Fields with Ray and Vicki on their 50th Wedding Anniversary

Ray and Vicki with grandchildren

Ray and Vicki

Ray and Vicki with great-grandchildren

Weekend Writing Prompt – AMATEUR

Published July 27, 2019 by rochellewisoff

A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend. How you use the prompt is up to you. Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like. Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise. If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in Sammi’s comment section.

Word Prompt

Amateur

Challenge

My friend lists my achievements in wide-eyed wonder. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

While it’s true I’ve had some good reviews, my books aren’t on the Times bestseller list.

Despite sales, with each new painting, I still feel like an amateur.

And, please, don’t ask me about my organizational skills.

26 July 2019

Published July 24, 2019 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.

CLICK ME AND HOP ABOARD!

Genre: Historical Fiction circa 1890

Word Count: 100

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

Eight-year-old Charity watched the strange countryside whiz by. In the glass she caught a glimpse of her reflection. She covered her ears with her hair and tried to block out the other kids’ cruel jeers.

“Wings for ears. Beaver teeth. Too ugly for anyone to adopt you.”

She stepped off the train, clutching her rag doll. Schubert, Missouri looked nothing like New York.

A man and woman with prominent ears approached her. The man knelt and grinned, revealing a pronounced overbite. He caressed Charity’s cheek. “Mama, I believe this orphan train brought us the pretty little girl we prayed for.”

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