Life’s Ephemeral Nature

All posts in the Life’s Ephemeral Nature category

22 January 2021

Published January 20, 2021 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

Tap the frog to join the fun! 

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

STEPPIN’ STONES

Janelle thumbed through Variety. “NBC’s airing a new program called ‘Circus Boy.’” She ruffled her ten-year-old son’s blond hair. “Would you like to audition?”

“Nah.” Micky wrinkled his nose. “I got a baseball game.”

“You know what Dad says. ‘You have to follow the fish; the fish won’t follow you.’”

Micky, who enjoyed watching his father act on television, thought for a moment. “Okay. I’ll go.”

Two years later, Micky “Braddock” aka Corky learned about fleeting fame when “Circus Boy” ended.

Opportunity knocked again via NBC when 20-year-old Micky Dolenz snagged the role of the “Pre-Fab-Four’s” drummer in “The Monkees.”

In case you never caught the 1956-58 show (I didn’t), meet Micky Braddock

And one of my favorite Monkees songs with Micky singing lead.

 

Weekend Writing Prompt – Tenacious

Published January 17, 2021 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.

AMERICAN LEGACY

Nineteen years ago, I experienced southern hospitality in Selma, Alabama with friends

A restaurant we went to served wonderful food with a side of grisly history. A pit beside the front door had been a holding cell for slave auctions. I lost my appetite.

As we drove over the Edmund Pettis bridge my heart swelled. I imagined the hundreds of American citizens who marched across it, tenaciously fighting for what was rightfully theirs.

No fiction in this story. Guess it’s the time of year. Martin Luther King Jr. day is tomorrow in the States. He was a true American Hero who leaves behind a legacy…for all Americans. (At least that’s how I see it.) 

 

14 January 2021

Published January 13, 2021 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 © Dale Rogerson

CLICK THE FROG TO PLAY ALONG

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

LISTEN TO THE BAND

“I’ve had enough of this scene,” said Stephen Stills as he sat at a coffee house in Greenwich Village. “I’m off to LA.”

Peter picked out a tune on his guitar. “Ya think you’ll make more bread out there?”

“Dunno. But it’s warmer.”

_____

 

As the two basked in California sunshine, Stephen handed Peter a newspaper. “I’m auditioning. Why don’t you?”

Peter read the ad. “I’m a musician. Haven’t acted since the PTA play in grade school.”

“It says ‘Musicians-Singers.’”

“Okay. What’ve I got to lose?”

Years later, Peter Tork told an interviewer.  “I’ll always have the Monkees on my back.”

***

RIP Peter

February 13,1942- February 21, 2019

8 January 2021

Published January 6, 2021 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 @ Jan Wayne Fields

JUST FOR FUN CLICK THE FROG

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

HEY! HEY! MERCY, WOMAN!

“I got a boy to raise. I can’t afford to lose this job.” Bette ripped the document from the IBM electric. The bank called it progress, she called it futile. “Doggone unerasable ink. Someone should invent…hmm.”

_____

“Is that paint in the blender?” asked 12-year-old Michael.

Bette took a bottle of the white stuff to work with a small paintbrush. Before she knew it, her coworkers clamored for a bottle. She called her lucrative invention “Mistake-Out.”

______

“My mom was a dynamo. She built the Liquid Paper Corporation from nothing.” Monkee Michael Nesmith drawled. “All I did was sing and write songs.”

CLICK FOR MORE

and just for fun…one of the songs Mike Nesmith wrote

Weekend Writing Prompt – Marginal

Published January 2, 2021 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.

FIRST DRAFT

The artist welcomes

The dawning year

With a preliminary sketch

Before rendering it in watercolor,

Kneaded eraser at the ready.

Progress is marginal at best.

Can she pull this one off?

To see finished works by the artist 😉  CLICK HERE

Weekend Writing Prompt – Troglodyte

Published December 26, 2020 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.

A flash fiction for the last Saturday of 2020. The picture has nothing to do with the story. 😉 Happy New Year. May it be a saner and healthier one.

THE ONE

“Jenice, you can’t be serious?”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“He’s a troglodyte.” I rolled my eyes. “His knuckles practically drag the ground.”

Jenice was the prettiest girl in school. The boys fell all over themselves to ask her out.

Instead, she went to our senior prom with The Incredible Bulk—chubby, beady-eyed, unibrow Malcom William Matson. His very name shouted, “Geek!”

After graduation I married the man of my dreams. Jenice went to med school.

At our class reunion, Drs. Malcom and Jenice Matson celebrated their fortieth anniversary while I nursed wounds from my fifth divorce.

 

Weekend Writing Prompt – Languid

Published December 20, 2020 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.

Once more the word sent me down Memory Lane. 😉 

MATHEMATICAL STATEMENT

My mind often wandered to fantasy worlds while my languid eyelids drooped during Science or Math classes.

However, my ninth-grade Algebra teacher, Mrs. Bredehoft, with her southern charm did her best to make her classes interesting.

No one could top her when she burst through the door with, “Surprise! Surprise! Surprise! We’re having a pop quiz today!”

 

*You just can’t make some things up.*

18 December 2020

Published December 16, 2020 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

CLICK THE FROG TO JOIN THE FUN!

                                                                                                                   

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

BEYOND THE YELLOW BRICK ROAD

“Here’s something you might enjoy, Raymond.” Annie handed her young son a book. “The Wizard of Oz. It teaches us that everyone has a brain, a heart and courage.”  

             “I love it, Mama.”

In his teens he discovered the theater. He idolized Fred Stone who originated the role of the scarecrow in the stage version of L. Frank Baum’s classic. Stone’s loose-limbed dance form intrigued Raymond.

            Against his father’s wishes, the courageous youth set his mind on a career in entertainment.

            As the scarecrow, with haphazard style, Ray Bolger danced across the screen in M-G-M’s classic The Wizard of Oz.

Weekend Writing Prompt – Niggle

Published December 13, 2020 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.

FRENETIC WATERCOLORIST

Months of seclusion

Have wrought hours of creation

Payne’s grey, cerulean

Shades of crimson

Burnt Umber, phthalo greens and blues.

Colors blend into pictures of

Faces,

Seascapes

Water and glass.

Whatever appeals to me.

Whatever challenges me.

These things I must render

Even the proverbial kitchen sink

With sable brushes on

Gloriously textured paper.

The thought niggles at me.

Have I painted myself into a corner?

 

11 December 2020

Published December 9, 2020 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

CLICK FROG FOR ADMISSION

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

THE PEOPLE’S PLAYGROUND

My dad held my hand as we walked along the boardwalk. The sea breeze riffled through my hair and the food scents tantalized my nostrils.

“The Steeplechase was my favorite.” Daddy mused. “You mounted a mechanical horse on a rail and whoosh! Instant horserace. Too bad they tore it down years ago.”

We sat on a bench munching our Nathan’s hotdogs, replete with mustard and sauerkraut. Seagulls clambered over one another, competing for the crumbs we dropped.

Two lifetimes later, my grandson and I munch Nathan’s hotdogs and prepare to ride the new Steeplechase.  

Some things change. Some things don’t.

 

 

Steeplechase then:

And now:

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