7 February 2025

Published February 5, 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 © Ted Strutz

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Genre: Literary Fiction
Word Count: 100

HANAI

I met Kevin online. Our connection began with shared interests and blossomed into more.

“You should visit in person,” said my sister.

“Fat chance. He’s in Hawaii, I’m in Nebraska.”

Last week I received an airline ticket.

“Next Saturday. Icon Grill. Seattle.

Aloha,

Kevin.”

_______________________

He slides into the booth across from me. “You bring it?”

From my purse I take a faded photograph of twins, a boy and a girl. Korean War orphans. I’ve carried it for forty years.

His almond-shaped eyes crinkle as he fishes an identical photo from his wallet.

“Jah-meh, I always hoped to find you.”

*Jah-meh – Korean for sister

Confession: this is a retread that I’ve posted a couple of times before. So if it looks familiar, you know why. If you wrote a story in 2013 or 2016 for this lovely photo from Ted Strutz, who is sorely missed, feel free to repost. 😉 Shoot me an email if you’d like to reach out to Ted via snail mail. ❤

24 January 2025

Published January 22, 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 © Dale Rogerson

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Genre: Fictionalized Story of a Current Reality
Word Count: 100

22 TISHREI 5784

More than a year had passed since Yani had seen her daughter Ori who would soon be freed from the hell of captivity. Forced to live in a damp, filthy tunnel beneath what was once a village, what stories would she tell? Would she be able to speak at all?

Hamas. Hebrew for violence. They say they have technical issues freeing their captives.

“Technical issues? They endanger their own children,” mused Yani’s grandmother Hannah who had survived Ravensbrück. “These animals should be found dead in every sector of their tunnels.”

“Ema!” Ori’s arms encircled Yani. “I’m home. Ahm Yisrael Chai!” *

*The people of Israel live!

17 January 2025

Published January 15, 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 © Robbie Cheadle

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Genre: HIstorical Fiction
Word Count: 100

UNTAMED

“Oh, you can’t be serious, Margaret,” said Ethel. “He gave that monstrosity to a young child. It will give her nightmares. What’s wrong with a Teddy Bear?”

“Mortimer isn’t too keen on Teddy Bears. Too cliché.”

“Then he shouldn’t have one. But a stuffed chimpanzee for a one-year-old?”

Margaret smiled. Her husband had brought the stuffed monkey he’d named Jubilee a few days prior.

She led Ethel to her daughter’s room where Jane slept with her arm curled around the monkey. “See for yourself.”

To this day, ninety years later, Jane Goodall’s beloved Jubilee sits on her dresser in London.

Baby Jane Goodall with her toy chimpanzee Jubilee.

10 January 2025

Published January 8, 2025 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Lisa Fox

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Genre: Anecdote
Word Count: 100

PURPLE PROSE

Addicted? Me? Nah. No way.

It is true that I’ve always loved purple—all shades of it, from pale lavender to deep violet.

It’s more than a color, or colour, depending on your locale. In North Carolina there’s even a boutique called, of all things, Purpleologist. They sell everything from knickknacks to jewelry, sunglasses, and clothes.

Twelve years ago, at a writer’s workshop, we bloggers were encouraged to create a memorable title to build our brand. “Addicted to Purple” was born—a bit of humor that seems to have caught on. That’s all.

Addicted? Me? Nah, I can stop anytime.

Here’s a link to Russell Gayer’s take on my addiction that he posted in 2012. (Note, he was at that same workshop)

A few years back, someone sent me the link to this song. He said it should be my theme song. 😉 It is my iPhone’s ringtone. 😀 What can I say? It works.

I can quit anytime.

27 December 2024

Published December 25, 2024 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Jennifer Pendergast

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Happy holidays to all who celebrate at this time of the year! In light of that and the fact that I’ve been battling some kind of sinus crud, today’s story is a rerun. However, the prompt is new. 😉

Genre: Pure Fiction
Word Count: 100

SUBJECT TO CHANGE

Ted set up a row of chairs in the reception hall. Jessica plopped down on one and pouted. “This is all-kinds-of wrong.”
“Hey sis, ever hear of John Cram?”
“No.”
“Lemme educate you. John Cram patented the folding chair in 1855. Then in 1947 Fred Arnold created the first aluminum one and by 1957 his company was manufacturing—”
“Ooh, cram your history, Mr. Wikipedia.” Jessica gritted her teeth. Tears stung her eyes. “It’s just not fair.”
Ted hugged her. “You’re going to be a gorgeous bride tomorrow.”
“What about my garden wedding? It’s not supposed to snow in May!

We celebrate both holidays in our house! Happy Merry from us to you!

In Loving Memory of John Scheuch.

20 December 2024

Published December 18, 2024 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT ©Sandra Crook

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Genre: Non-Fiction
Word Count: 100

It’s one of those “the muse is tired and not speaking much.” Holidays on the horizon and my mind is going in too many directions. So I revamped an oldie from the Weekend Writing Prompt. 😀 Enjoy.

THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME

My parents bought a single-story house in 1956. Moving from a tiny apartment with two small children, the house seemed like a palace.

When mom and dad passed, Jan and I bought my brother’s half of our inheritance and moved in with our three rambunctious sons.

At the time it seemed like a good idea since it was a nicer part of town with better schools.

After twenty-five years, we moved from the nine-hundred-fifty-square-foot cracker box and declining neighborhood.

When asked why empty nesters would buy a house three times larger, with vaulted ceilings we grin and reply, “Breathing room.”

A few pictures below. Mostly taken four years ago. But you get the idea.

Three times the size of that little house, to us, this place is a castle. We bought it 17 years ago and I still love it!

13 December 2024

Published December 11, 2024 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

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Genre: Fiction
Word Count: 100

PACKRATS AND OTHER HOARDERS

Dennis looked over Charlotte’s shoulder at her bulky pickup list. “Wrecked bicycle. Check. Commodore computer. Wait! Not my bench!”

“Anyone who sits on it risks getting a butt full of splinters.”

“I’ll take my chances.” He sank down. “This is where I used to sing Abby to sleep, help her with her homework, and wait for her to come home from her dates. My claw marks are still on the armrests.”

A small boy crawled onto Dennis’s lap. “I want to sit on Grandpa’s special bench, too.”

Charlotte crossed out bench. “You win.”

Dennis frowned. “Now, about that Commodore computer.”

6 December 2024

Published December 4, 2024 by rochellewisoff

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CLICK TO HOP ABOARD THE FF RED VW MICROBUS

Genre: Fiction
Word Count: 100

I
EXCEPTING ALICE

Despite my husband’s protests, I gather seashells along a Massachusetts beach. They are my favorite souvenirs from my travels.

I pick up a rock and hold it in the palm of my hand. A whimsical drawing of a cat smiles at me.

Later as we have lunch at Theresa’s Stockbridge Café, I show my find to our server.

“Oh!” she exclaims. “You don’t see many of those on the beach these days. That’s an Alice original.”

My heart pounds. “You mean as in the Alice?”

“Yes!”

Suddenly I find myself singing, “You can get anything you want at Alice’s Restaurant.”

The photo prompt this week is mine and while it’s true that I can’t resist collecting shells on the beach, the ones pictured came from St. Thomas, Florida, and Wilmington NC. I’ve never been to Massachusetts. 😉

Click the images below for the full pictures:

This is a phoo of one of Alice's painted rocks. She enjoyed leaving them around for others to find and enjoy.

Genre: Tribute – Non Fiction
Word Count: 100

II
REMEMBER ALICE?

Alice’s Restaurant wasn’t really a song about Alice—or a restaurant. It’s just the name of the song.

As the story goes, “It all started two Thanksgivings ago…”

Rock stations across the United States play Arlo Guthrie’s classic narrative every Thanksgiving which falls in late November.

While she enjoyed cooking, Alice Brock never expected fame or fortune to come of it. In recent years, she reminisced how, thanks to her “funny looking friend with the guitar,” and his eighteen-minute ramble, she became the “living legend Earth Mother.”

She left us this year, a week before Thanksgiving. Rest in peace, Alice.

CLICK to know more.

And if you really want to step back in time, (or have eighteen minutes with nothing better to do) here’s the song about Alice…and the restaurant:

29 November 204

Published November 27, 2024 by rochellewisoff

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Genre: Personal Musing
Word Count: 100

COME WHAT MAY

Every day it’s a-gettin’ closer.
Goin’ faster than a roller coaster…
I think back to the day we said our “I do’s.”
Sometimes we did. And all too often we didn’t.
Three babies came. Thankfully, one at a time—each with his own unique personality.
We weathered the lean times.
Hamburger Helper was what was for dinner.
We endured the alone times—both physical and emotional.
We survived chicken pox, broken bones and injuries requiring stitches.
Every day it’s a-gettin’ closer
Goin’ faster than a roller coaster
Life was never ever neat.
Love like yours has surely come my way.

Tomorrow marks our 53rd year of marriage. Our parents gave us six months. I guess we beat those odds. Sometimes I think we stayed together out of pure stubborness. At any rate, I’ve waxed reflective this month. Thank you for understanding. 😉

If you don’t already have an earworm, let me help. 😉

22 November 2024

Published November 20, 2024 by rochellewisoff

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Genre: Personal Musing
Word Count: 100

MISHPOCHA

When I was a small child, we all went to the same synagogue. Passover seders and bar mitzvah receptions were epic events.

I remember how excited I was to be the flower girl at my cousin Marshall’s wedding. So nervous, walking down the aisle, I forgot to throw the petals.

We grew up, married and went our separate ways. My parents, aunts, uncles, and most of my cousins succumbed to the inevitable.

Time has scattered the rest of us to the wind. Fewer invitations, cards, or even texts are sent.
Recently I learned of Marshall’s passing—in a Facebook post.