18 July 2025

Published July 16, 2025 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 © Sandra Crook

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Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

Another WWI hero denied his due in his own time.

WHAT DID YOU DO IN THE WAR, DADDY?

Twelve-year-old Elsie listened with rapt attention to Uncle Jim, Daddy’s army buddy from the war.

“There I was, bleeding in that French field, waiting to meet my maker. Then here comes your daddy, larger than life, slings me across his shoulders and runs back to the bunker under enemy fire.”

“Daddy never told me.”

“He’s too modest. It angers me that he never got the Congressional Medal of Honor he so deserved—because he was a Jew.”

War’s not about medals.” William Shemin shrugged. “I love my country.”

Elsie ground her teeth. “Daddy, someday I’m going to right this wrong.”

CLICK FOR BIO

4 July 2025

Published July 2, 2025 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 © David Stewart

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Genre: Fiction
Word Count: 100

OPPOSITES DISTRACT

Jane and Michael walked hand in hand past Victorian homes lining the street. They stopped in front of one that was surrounded by a picket fence. Its turret windows sparkled in the afternoon sunlight. Jane imagined sipping lemonade on the sprawling front porch.

“It’s like something in a romance novel, isn’t it? Wouldn’t you just love to live here?”

Michael kissed her forehead and said in a soft whisper, “Nope. Do you have any idea the cost of upkeep on an old barn like this?”

She scowled. “You certainly have a knack for finding the cloud in every silver lining.”

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I had some fun with last week’s prompt. 😀

27 June 2025

Published June 25, 2025 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: Anecdotal History Lesson
Word Count: 100

GAME OF CONES

Leaving childhood behind at fourteen, I entered the workforce. I was hired by the local Dairy Queen for a dollar an hour.

I became adept at swirling those curls atop cones and sundaes.

Did I ever wonder about the company’s history? Nope.

That was then. This is now.

J.F. McCullough and his son Alex invented soft-serve. They shared it with ice cream shop owner Sherb Noble who, in turn, offered ten-cent cones to a sell-out crowd of 1600.

The men partnered, and the first Dairy Queen opened on June 22, 1940, in Joliet, Illinois.

Another delicious piece of history served.

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Thanks to Yvette Prior for a lovely interview. You can read it HERE.

6 June 2025

Published June 4, 2025 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 © David Stewart

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Genre: Anecdote
Word Count:100

CONNECTING FLIGHT

“Are you ready to go to the airport?”

I shuffled through the piles on my desk. “Daddy, I can’t find my passport.”

“Hurry!” He paced the floor.

Then I remembered I only needed my real I.D.

When we arrived at the check-in, panic set in. I’d forgotten to pack. We rushed home where I flung clothes into my purple suitcase: black swimsuits, black skirt, black pants, black…What’s with all this black?

Next-thing-I-know I’m lying in bed. I open my eyes. Somewhat relieved, I look at the clock. It’s 04:00. Dad’s been gone these past thirty years. Gee, I miss him.

*I wrote this shortly after I woke up from this very dream. Wasn’t sure what to call the genre. 😉

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And just a little something extra. 😉 It’s kind of long and has nothing to do with Friday Fictioneers. It’s an interview I did a few months ago with my author friend Diane Yates.

25 April 2025

Published April 23, 2025 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 © 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

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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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 © Sandra Crook

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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.”

13 September 2024

Published September 11, 2024 by rochellewisoff

Please, please, sign your comments! Most of your names are coming through but there were at least five last week that were marked “Anonymous.” I really like to know to whom I’m replying. 😀 Thank you for your participation and reciprocation. Shalom, Rochelle

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THE BOX HEARD ‘ROUND THE WORLD

Dale folded a blanket and laid it in a box of linens. “I hate moving.”

Rochelle taped the top of another box and labeled it Bedroom with a marker. “Ever wonder who invented them?”

“Invented what?”

“Cardboard boxes.”

“No.”

“Robert Gair, who came to the United States in 1853 from Scotland on a ship by himself. He was only fourteen at the time. Can you imagine what that must’ve been like? Later he fought in the Civil War and after that, he worked in a paper factory.”

“So how did he invent the box?”

“Sorry, I’m fresh out of words.”

CLICK for a lot more about Robert Gair

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It’s still summer! 😉

7 June 2024

Published June 5, 2024 by rochellewisoff

LAST DANCE WITH ANNIE is available to order in hardback, paperback or ebook, HERE, HERE, and HERE! Also available on Amazon Canada, Australia, UK, Germany and New Zealand. 😉

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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 TO HOP ABOARD!

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

FORWARD CRAWL

Eight-year-old Johann hurried through breakfast. He couldn’t wait to go to Fullerton Beach. “Swimming lessons, today.”

“What if you drown?” asked his little brother, Peter.

“Drown? I’m going to be the greatest fish in the sea.”

Later, trembling with excitement, he dove into the chilly waves of Lake Michigan, beginning a love affair with the water that never ended.

Johnny Weissmuller, an Olympic gold medal winner, went on to become the most popular on-screen Tarzan of all time.

When a young swimmer asked him for advice, he replied,

“Don’t let go of the vine when you’re swinging through the jungle!”

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6 October 2023

Published October 4, 2023 by rochellewisoff

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Dear Friday Fictioneers,
Lately some weird things seem to be going on with Word Press. I don’t know about you, but I’ve been receiving “anonymous” comments that I’m pretty sure are from other Friday Fictioneers. In fact, my own husband’s comments show up as anonymous. So, when you leave a comment you might leave your name. 😉 And a few other comments consistently go to my spam or trash folder. Chances are if you leave a comment that disappears, that’s where it went. Very frustrating.
Shalom,
Rochelle

On that note, here’s my story. If it looks familiar, it’s a rerun from six years ago. 😉
Genre: Realistic Fiction
Word Count: 100

THE MANLY ART OF GIVING

The bars clanked behind me. My pulse thudded in my ears.

My first interviewee, a hulk you wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley, put me at ease.

“It gives ya peace of mind.” DeShawn looped pink yarn around his sausage-sized fingers. “This gonna be a blanket for my niece.”

Several tough-looking inmates showed off scarves and hats they’d made for inner city kids for Christmas.

“It don’t change what we done, but I hope it makes up for some of the hurt we caused.” DeShawn’s ebony eyes gleamed. “Every strong man should have a pair of knittin’ needles.”