11 March 2022

Published March 9, 2022 by rochellewisoff

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Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100
A tribute to all the “Uncles and Aunts” who risked their own lives to save others.

SAFEKEEPING

Shira slipped a worn photo of a smiling two-year-old from her pocket that, like she, had managed to survive hell. Had Hans kept his promise? Trembling, she knocked on the cottage door.

It opened. “Danke Gott!” A stout man with ruddy cheeks embraced her. “Ilsa, who is this lady?”

A five-year-old clung to his leg. “I don’t know, Uncle Hans.”

Shira knelt. “Don’t you remember me?”

Ilsa shook her head and stared at the numbers on Shira’s forearm.

Shira’s heart sank. “Oy, meyn kleyn ketzl.”

“Momma katz?” Ilsa threw her arms around Shira’s neck. “I knew you’d come for me.”

*Oy meyn kleyn ketzl – Oh, my little kitten”

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25 February 2022

Published February 23, 2022 by rochellewisoff

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Genre: Historical Fiction (Based on a true story)
Word Count: 100

VIGILANCE

“What do you plan to do about Reverend Ahlwardt, sir?”

“What can I do? It’s America.” Theodore Roosevelt gazed at people on the crowded sidewalk below. “As police commissioner I’m dutybound to protect this German hatemongering windbag’s freedom of speech.”

“The whole Lower East Side is likely to protest.”

Imagining the violence the so-called minister’s antisemitic lecture could cause in his city, Theodore grimaced. “Yes, it’s liable to get ugly. Sergeant Levine. I’m trusting you to put your best men on security detail. Might I suggest Officers Cohen, Weinberg, Kaminsky, Horowitz, and Levy?”

With a grin, Sergeant Levine saluted. “Yessir!”

There’s a reason I wrote him into my novels. 😉

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18 February 2022

Published February 16, 2022 by rochellewisoff

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February is Black History Month in the States. It amazes me how many noteworthy people history has shamefully glossed over. I recently learned of this lady.

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

WRINKLE IN TIME

Sarah scanned the words in her McGuffey’s Reader. For most of her life they’d meant nothing to her. Literacy was a privilege reserved for white folks.

She lifted the book to her nose and breathed in its aroma. Like cloth for a new dress, it thrilled her. It smelled of freedom.

Now she would be able to understand her clients’ written instructions and fill out receipts.

More importantly, she could read to her babies.

“Mrs. Boone, would you like to read the next sentence?”

“Yes sir!” She grinned at the teacher and read haltingly, “‘Come, kitty, my own little kitty…’”

***

Sarah Boone – One of the first African American women to be awarded a patent.

To read more about this highly motivated woman CLICK HERE

28 January 2022

Published January 26, 2022 by rochellewisoff

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Genre: Anecdote
Word Count: 100

THE BRIGHT SIDE

Our junior high art teacher, Mrs. Spears introduced Taffy and me saying, “You two need to know each other.”

We became fast friends. Comparing our latest projects, the highest praise we gave each other was, “I hate you.”

After graduation we went our separate ways.

Forty years later I gave her a call. Since that night ten years ago, we’ve spoken or texted nearly every day as if no time has passed.

A gifted stained-glass designer, she amazes me. My favorites are her handmade butterflies.

When asked the key to her craft she says, “Band-aids. Lots and lots of Band-aids.”

You’re welcome, Taffy. He he. 😉

21 January 2022

Published January 19, 2022 by rochellewisoff

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Genre: Memoir
Word Count: 100
WORLD OF HER OWN

Her fourth-grade teacher dubbed her “Messy Bessy.” Each time the frustrated child attempted to organize her desk chaos quickly returned.

Mrs. Smith moved the girl’s desk to the front of the room. Perhaps sitting beside the teacher would encourage her to mend her slovenly ways.

The kid didn’t mean to misbehave. Reading or illustrating stories she wrote in her head took priority over neatness. She’d simply lose herself in her latest adventure.

One morning, Mrs. Smith jolted Rochelle from the Ingalls’ cabin on the prairie with, “Miss Wisoff, would you care to join the class for our daily spelling test?”

My granddaughter Olive and her faithful companion Poppy

14 January 2022

Published January 12, 2022 by rochellewisoff

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A few years ago I shared this story for a now defunct blog challenge called What Pegman Saw. It seems the appropriate time to share it again (in a shorter form 😉 ) RIP Mr. Poitier, you were a trailblazer, a great actor and an elegant human being.

Genre: Biographical Fiction
Word Count: 100

THE VIRTUES OF SIMPLICITY

“Tell me a story, Great-Grandpa.”

“Shall I tell you the story of Cinderella.”

“Tell me about when you were a boy in the Bahamas.”

He gathered the child onto his lap. “We were poor. Didn’t have a telephone or electricity. But we had the bluest skies at our temples and the ocean at our feet.”

“What did you do for fun?”

“Climbed trees and went swimming almost every day. Why I didn’t even see a movie until I was twelve.”

“And now you’re a movie star like Denzel Washington.”

Sidney Poitier kissed his great-granddaughter. “Nah, I’m just an ordinary guy.”

***

7 January 2022

Published January 5, 2022 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.

Genre: Fiction
Word Count: 100
FLOWER AND WILLOW WORLD

A thousand butterflies swirl in my stomach as I peer out the window, watching for the car that will bring my Hoshi-chan, my shining star, for a brief visit.

After we left her at the Okiya in Kyoto, six months ago, I cried for a week.

At her Misedashi my heart swelled with pride. In exquisite silk kimono, painted face and elegant jeweled hair, Hoshi, renamed Kikuyu, was welcomed into the secret society of Geisha.

She glided to me on lacquered getas and uttered those words I will forever cherish. “Okaasan, when I come home, please cook me a hamburger.”

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

31 December 2021

Published December 29, 2021 by rochellewisoff

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Genre: Questionable
Word Count: 100

HAPPY NEW YEAR…LITERALLY

“All the falderal’s done for another year.” Meg gathered wadded giftwrap and fumed. “Just look at the pine needles littering floor.”

“Don’t be a Scrooge,” whispered Beth.

Amy frowned. “Where’s your holiday spirit, Meg?”

Meg handed her a broom. “Make yourself useful.”

Jo opened her brand new, leatherbound thesaurus. “‘Falderal’…’absurdity, baloney, humbug.’”

Ebenezer popped the cork on a bottle of champagne. “Let’s make merry!”

“Grandfather sent goat cheese for the party,” cried Heidi.

“Then a toast,” said Bob Cratchit.

Asher Lev set aside his paintbrush and raised a glass. “L’chaim!”

Tiny Tim beamed. “God bless our Friday Fictioneers’ muses everyone.”

*Apologies to Louisa May Alcott, Charles Dickens, Johanna Spyri and Chaim Potok.

17 December 2021

Published December 15, 2021 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.

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

WINE NOT?

Events of that morning zipped through Hannah’s mind. John complained his egg was runny and his bacon not crisp. By suppertime he’d been shot to death.

The executor read John’s last will and testament. When he finished, his lips spread in a saccharine smile. “He left J.C. Weinberger Winery to you. After you sell it, you’ll be well-set.

“Why would I do that?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

She squared her shoulders. “I’ll run the business.”

Six years later, at the 1889 Worlds Fair in Paris, Hannah Weinberger won a silver medal for her wine—the only California woman to do so.

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26 November 2021

Published November 24, 2021 by rochellewisoff

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Genre: Realistic Faction
Word Count: 100

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ONE SEASON FOLLOWING ANOTHER

Rochelle gazed at the pile of wedding gifts needing to be put away. Among them were three percolators. Neither she nor Jan even drank coffee.

Six months ago, she’d flashed her engagement ring at the senior prom.

With mounting dread, she surveyed the cramped, third floor walk-up apartment with red and black kitchen cabinets. What did she know about marriage?

***

Rochelle downed her second cup of black coffee. “My mother gave us six months at the most.”

Jan poured his third. “What did we know about marriage?”

She kissed his cheek. “Guess we managed to learn something in fifty years.”