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.
Genre: Humor if it weren’t so true. Word Count: 100
MOMENT OF TRUTH
The menacing scale in my doctor’s office looms before me. Every six months I’m forced to face the numbers.
I’m sure I’ve gained thirty pounds since my last visit.
Mom would say, “Forget about the number. How do your clothes fit?”
Nurse Godzilla, clipboard in hand, urges me to step up.
The accusing voice in my head screams. “Hippo!”
This is ridiculous. I’m making myself crazy. Will the voices ever still?
Holding my breath, eyes shut, I ascend the monster. Opening my eyes, I’m surprised to see I’ve lost a pound since last time. I grin. I’m safe…until next time.
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.
Grandma shook her head. “Nonsense. It’s for sure and certain they’re imaginary, Maud.”
“They aren’t nonsense. They live in the fairy closet behind the bookcase. I’m going to write about them.”
“Enough!” Casting his steely-eyed gaze at eight-year-old Maud, Grandpa pounded the table. “Ladies don’t write.”
Maud later wrote, “Down, deep down under all the discouragement and rebuff, I knew I would ‘arrive’ someday,”
During her lifetime Lucy Maud Montgomery published twenty novels, including Anne of Green Gables, over five-hundred short stories, an autobiography, and a book of poetry. She indeed, had arrived.
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. 😉
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.
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.
Tony, Elise’s husband, had never considered himself a candidate for therapy. He’d always believed all that psychobabble was hogwash and hooey. However, since he’d met Dr. Hank Rogers at the verteran’s support group meetings, his opinions had begun to change.
THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE AND WELCOME HOME
Tony had great respect for Hank, a Vietnam veteran who’d lost both legs in battle. He was the recipient of two Purple Hearts, a Bronze Star, and a Distinguished Service Cross.
At their first meeting, trying not to stare at the therapist’s stumps, Tony focused on the medals in their shadow box. “You must have some stories to tell.”
“You bet, but we’re not here to discuss my service history, Chief. Surely you have a few medals of your own. Nightmares?”
“I see how it is.” Tony had bristled. “What’s this gonna cost me, Doc?”
“Nothing, save some emotional baggage.”
All Versions are availabe for preorder HERE. Official release date June 4! and if you’re in the area:
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.
My father was a cook by trade and a baker by passion.
There was nothing he loved more than cooking for a crowd or creating delicious desserts. Pineapple cheese pecan pie was his signature dish. It’s my decided opinion that the Philadelphia cream cheese company owes him for the publicity. In fact, as I was giving birth to my third son, Dear Old Dad was outside the door feeding the nurses cherry-cream-cheese muffins.
At his funeral a year later, the young rabbi delivered a beautiful eulogy.
I couldn’t help but think, “If Dad were here, he’d bake her a pie.”
My dad is the reason I became a cake decorator. We took a class together. I surprised him with this cake on his 65th birthday. 😀
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.
Mama’s words echoed in Sister Benedicta’s memory. “Edith, how can your turn your back on your people this way? To be baptized is an outrage! You are a Jew.”
“Our Lord Jesus himself was a Jew.” Edith had calmly replied. “I am still a Jew.
The Nazis agreed and forced her to pin a yellow star to her habit.
It boggled her mind that anyone could be so cruel.
The gas chambers of Auschwitz loomed before her. Her sister Rosa wept at her side.
Putting an arm around her shoulder, Sister Benedicta whispered, “Come, we are going for our people.”
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.
Happy May, Everyone! It seems whatever issues WP has had with sign ins and commentors continues. I had a few comments from Annonymous last week. I noticed also that I’m not the only one. A few times I’ve had to sign back in to leave a comment. It is rather irritating. If you could leave your name it would be helpful. Thank you.
Genre: Coming of Age Word Count: 100
MUZAK TO MY EARS
In my teens I was a raving Beatles fan. Oh, the memories each of their songs evokes from different stages of my adolescence.
I still have my collection of vinyl 45 rpm records. Not familiar? Look them up. No time to elaborate in one hundred words.
One afternoon my mother came into my room as I was rocking to “I am the Walrus.” With a disgusted look she said, “You only tell yourself you like that dreck.”
Seriously I still love the crazy cacophony.
Imagine my surprise the other day when I heard it as background music in the supermarket.
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Last Dance With Annie, by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, will be available June 4th in paperback, hardcover, and ebook. Preorder on Amazon, Nook, Kobo, and more!
“Much flows through the pages of “Last Dance” and all of it is worth reading. In this well-written, poignant story, Wisoff-Fields offers the reader a front row seat into less-spoken-of and rarely seen realities of lives weighted by years of expectation, exploitation, secrecy, trauma, and turmoil; but also to the powers of love, truth, and creativity to offer healing and feed hope. As Elise and those around her lose, then seek to find their step, we weep with, cheer for, and dance with them. Hurrah, Rochelle, for a story well told!”
Na’ama Yehuda, MSC SLP (Author: Communicating Trauma, Emilia, Outlawed Hope, Apples in Applath)
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.
We couldn’t afford for Mama to have her baby at the white clinic, so Daddy hired Miss Coley.
“I ain’t lettin’ no dirty colored woman touch me,” said Mama.
Daddy shrugged. “Ain’t no choice, Maybelle.”
When Miss Mary came, she patted my head. “Look at them purty blue eyes.”
She arranged her birthing tools on newspapers. Then she scrubbed her hands. “Everything gotsta be extra clean.”
Miss Mary sat with Mama all night until my baby brother was born. Two years later, even though times was better, Mama wouldn’t trust nobody else to bring my baby sister into the world.
I couldn’t resist using the title. It just seemed to fit. You can read more about Miss Mary HERE
You can watch the 1952 documentary about Miss Mary HERE
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Last Dance With Annie will be available June 4th in paperback, hardcover, and ebook. Preorder on Amazon, Nook, Kobo, and more!(click “more” for four more places to preorder. :D)
Here’s an installment of an interview I did for Ozark Hollow Press:
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.
The following is admittedly a seven-year-old rerun. I’ve been extremely distracted of late and didn’t feel I could get away with another “my muse didn’t show up story.”…which she didn’t. 😉
Genre: Historical Fiction Word Count: 100
FAMILY TREE
“‘And they lived happily ever after.’” Leah shut the storybook.
Shifra’s raisin-brown eyes, round as bottle caps, sparkled. “Bubbie? Did you love Grandpa at first sight?”
“He was only eight when we met. Mama took him in…hid him from the khappers, bad men who snatched little Jewish boys from their homes and made them serve twenty-five years in the Czar’s army.”
“Did she hide him in the closet?”
“No she was smart, my Mama.”
“He was like your brother, right?”
Leah pointed to a tintype on the table of two little bonneted girls and grinned. “More like my sister.“
*****
Below is my first attempt at creating a reel on Canva and posting it to Instagram. It works on my end if I click the picture. Let me know how it works for you.
The ebook can be preordered HERE, HERE and HERE! Release Date is June 4! If you’re not an ebook fan, paperback and hard back copies will be available on and after June 4! 😀
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.
“It’s time to clean this cluttered basement.” Stacks of boxes from our last move wait on shelves to be gone through—later.
Opening a cardboard box, I sneeze at the musty odor. I pick up a tattered paperback and thumb through its yellowed pages.
Bunnicula.
How my now-grown son and I laughed at the antics of the family pets. I lose myself in the adventures of the dog, cat and, of course, the titular vegetable-sucking vampire rabbit.
“Look at the time.” I return the novel to the box. “I’ll get back to cleaning—later.”
Note: Bunnicula was a fun read. And my story is true. I really could use some organizational help here. 😉
And on the subject of books:
My book LAST DANCE WITH ANNIE is available for ebook preorder on the following sights: HERE, HERE and HERE! Release Date is June 4! If you’re not an ebook fan, paperback and hard back copies will be available on and after that date. 😀
Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple 