24 April 2020

Published April 22, 2020 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 © C.E.Ayr

Yeah, I know, the frog’s not blue and the following story is a rerun (the story, not the photo) from March 2013. Hard to believe as of this month, I’ve been writing Friday Fictioneers stories for 8 years. Many writers have come and gone since then, but still there remains a handful of us die-hard FF’rs. Thanks for participating one and all.

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

PACK RAT

Boxes overflowing with rusted ten-penny nails, camping equipment and car parts cluttered the garage. Judith hated the chaos, but other things got in the way of Greg’s promise to organize until the day he deserted her.

It took months to sort through the cardboard jungle.

Then she came across a crate with “Judith” painted on the lid. In it she found her class ring, his first speeding ticket and a bottle of cognac—same vintage they’d shared on their honeymoon.

A note in his uneven scrawl read,

“Damned cancer. Wish I were there to toast forty of my happiest years.”

LA CHAUMIÈRE DE DIVINE

Published April 18, 2020 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman travels to Roscanvel, Brittany. Your mission is to wander around using Google Street View until you find something that inspires you to write up to 150 words. When you’re satisfied, post a link to the InLinz site and share it with your fellow writers. Remember that reading and commenting on other posts is part of the experience.

Thanks to Josh and Karen for hosting What Pegman Saw. 😀

Click to the dancing frog to participate

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

LA CHAUMIÈRE DE DIVINE

The September breeze ruffled Paul’s hair as he paced the perimeter of the stone cottage, contemplating his losses.

“It is poetry, this place. Nothing like cruel Paris,” he’d told his companion and their two sons. “The clairvoyant was right. We will flourish here. Here we laugh, we cry; here we live, we die like legends.”

An infant’s squall rousted him from his musings. He hurried toward the sound. Entering the bedroom, he found his children’s mother cradling a newborn. She flashed a weary, yet jubilant smile. “Paul, say hello to your daughter.”

“La perfection!” Taking the little one in his arms, he marveled at her delicate features. “Created by the angels, sent by God. I shall call her Divine. What do you think?”

Almost as if she understood, Divine grasped his finger. He thrilled to her touch. “I am your father, Saint-Pol-Roux le magnifique. Ma princesse. Welcome to Divine’s Cottage.”

Poet Saint-Pol-Roux

Divine’s Cottage

Weekend Writing Prompt – Obsolete

Published April 18, 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.

Summing it up in 24 words.

Older?

Yes.

Wiser?

Questionable.

Exploring possibilities

At my keyboard

At my easel

A dreamer?

Always and forever.

Obsolete?

Qui, moi?

Not by a longshot!

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields My muddled morning, trying to make this painting submit to my bidding at 4:45 in the blessed A.M.

“A Writer’s Life” – 11 x 14 – Framed – $350.00

17 April 2020

Published April 15, 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 the Frog to Play Along!

Word Count: 100

Genre: Historical Fiction

I told myself I was going to give Historical Fiction a rest, but this story found me and begged to be shared. For those across the sea, let me introduce you to an American icon. (she should be)

AFTER A FASHION

The sun rose on New York’s horizon, Lena’s adopted city since immigrating from Lithuania in 1895, as a 16-year-old orphan. The baby on her soaking hip crammed his fist into his mouth and whimpered.

“Oy. My little pisher needs his vikileh changed.”

Once the deed was done she sat at her sewing machine, sleeping infant on her lap. She yawned. “No rest for weary Widow Bryant. Miss Feingold needs her wedding dress.”

Four years later, Lena opened her own shop. Thanks to the bank’s misspell on her loan, we now remember the designer of fashionable plus-size dresses as Lane Bryant.

Pisher is a Yiddish word for someone who can’t keep his drawers dry. Vikeleh is diaper or nappie depending on which side of the pond you’re on. 😉

*

10 April 2020

Published April 8, 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 © Jeff Arnold

CLICK ME! PLEASE!

Thanks to my husband Jan who found an article about the following event. As soon as he shared the article I knew what my story would be. Just in time for Passover. Matzo and sweet wine for everyone.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

WHY IS THIS NIGHT DIFFERENT FROM ALL OTHER NIGHTS?

PFC Nachman Levy recited the four questions for the hastily-organized Passover seder. At nineteen, he was the youngest in the “Rainbow Division” so the task fell to him.

“We’ve taken Dahn from the Third Reich.” Wearing his tallis over his fatigues and a twinkle in his eye, infantry rabbi Captain Bohnen led the ceremony reading from the hagaddah. “This is the first Jewish publication in Germany in seven years.” He brandished a crumpled ink-stained Nazi flag. “We put this to good use—cleaning the printing press.”

1,500 Jewish-American soldiers cheered.

Nachman’s pulse raced. He raised his cup and shouted. “L’chaim!”

The Haggadah begins with a message from Major General Collins: “My Jewish Soldiers– The celebration of Passover should have unusual significance for you at this time, for like your ancestors of old you too are now engaged in a battle against a modern Pharaoh. This Pharaoh has sought, not only to enslave your people, but to make slaves of the whole world.”

General Collins also told attendees, “I am sure this Passover will live in your memories forever. You celebrate it in Germany, the land in which Hitler said no Passover would be celebrated for at least a thousand years.”

Rainbow Division Insignia

SPIRIT OF LOVE

Published April 5, 2020 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman heads west to the quaintly-named Happy Jack, Arizona. Your mission as always is to use the photosphere/street view part of Google Maps to wander around and find something that inspires you to write up to 150 words, then post your work to the InLinkz below. Reading and commenting on other stories is part of the experience, so you won’t want to miss out! Do you best, and have fun!

I didn’t really have a clue until this morning what to write. On the other hand, I needed a diversion and it’s not like I have anywhere special to go. Many thanks to Josh and Karen (Good to see you back!) for hosting the challenge.

Such a peaceful setting. I would love to be there right now.

Genre: Historical Fiction

(I imagine this to take place before the Conquistadors. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. 😉 )

Word Count: 150

SPIRIT OF LOVE

During her eighteenth summer Sicheii told Johona he had given her to Kai, a man from another Diné clan. In her anger, she stomped her feet and wailed, beating the air with her fists. “I don’t want a man.”

“My decision is made. Kai is a dependable man,” her grandfather told her. “He will give you a home and many children.”

The Spirit had not blessed Kai with good looks. His nose was too big and his eyebrows too thick. Johona wept bitterly on their marriage night and refused to share her bed with him.

Kai did not force her. “My hogan is yours. I’ll wait. “He flashed a crooked-toothed smile.

Two summers later, Johona gave thanks to Mother Earth at the ceremony celebrating her son’s first laugh. She rested her head on Kai’s broad chest.

“This child brings joy!” Sicheii proclaimed

“And,” Johona beamed, “he’s handsome like his father.”

*Sicheii is Navajo for Grandfather

Parents, remember your baby’s first laugh? What a sweet sound. Imagine a ceremony to celebrate it? How beautiful is that? When I read about it, I had to write about it. 😀

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Weekend Writing Prompt – Keepsake

Published April 4, 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.

*

Today I’ll downsize.

With a large trash bag at my disposal I dive into the sea of clutter—useless junk—only to rediscover heirlooms—handwritten notes, children’s drawings, a sixty-year-old dreidel—keepsake after keepsake. A sea of treasures and memories. I cannot part with them.

I’ll downsize tomorrow.

Maybe.

In case you wonder what a 60 year old dreidel looks like – It’s a piece of plastic that might have set the synagogue back less than a cent a piece to give each child at the Hanukkah party. To me a priceless keepsake.

Weekend Writing Prompt -Continuity

Published March 28, 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.

JUGGLING ACT

I work on my current WIP only to be sidetracked by a blog challenge or to add a detail to my painting. Mustn’t forget my beta reading. No continuity for this multitasker. Life is grand!

WIP – Work In Progress

KEYSTROKES

Published March 25, 2020 by rochellewisoff

Another idea struck me this morning and decided why not double dip? This is what happens when a person wakes before 04:00 with her mind on spin cycle. A hearty thank you to my mother who sat me down with my brother’s Gregg textbook and insisted I learn to type. I argued, “What does an artist need with typing?”

Genre: Questionable

Word Count: 100

KEYSTROKES

“Q is for quill which is what Charles Dickens used to write his stories.

W is for the white-out I would need were I using a manual machine.

E is for happy endings.

R is for ruminations, renderings and rebuttals. It’s also the first letter in my name.

T is for typewriter. Imagine writing a novel in longhand. Hats off to Christopher Latham Sholes.

Y is for yesteryear when life was simpler. Was it really?”

Rochelle studied her brightly-lit desktop screen. “Not so sure about this one.” She tapped the delete key. “Or maybe…” She hit CTRL Z. “Viva technology.”

Could I avoid history? I think not. CLICK HERE.

The reason Jeff took the picture. 😉

27 March 2020

Published March 25, 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.

CLICK THE FROG TO JOIN!

Another installment to celebrate Women’s History Month. 😀 This week, a woman from my own tribe. Some of us remember her from the TV show in the 60’s called “I’ve Got a Secret.”

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

FOR SUCH A TIME

“I would’ve been taller.” Bella gaffed off her daughter’s complaints. “But we couldn’t afford it. Back to your homework.”

At 5’10”, twelve-year-old Bess stood head and shoulders above her classmates, garnering her the role of Olive Oyl in the school play. An honor she didn’t want.

As she matured, her awkwardness became statuesque grace.

Bess’s sister entered her in the Miss New York beauty pageant. Although embarrassed, she competed, refusing to use a pseudonym that didn’t sound “so Jewish.”

On August 15, 1945, in the shadow of the liberation of Auschwitz, Bess Myerson proudly wore the crown of Miss America.

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