20 September2024

Published September 18, 2024 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Lisa Fox

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The following is a repeat and if you remember it, bless you. It means you’ve been on board the FF bus for seven full years! 😀

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

RADIUM DIAL

“Jinny was barely growed. 1914-1934” Her lower lip quivered as she traced the dates on the headstone with a frail finger. “She earned $17.50 a week painting them glow-in-the-dark clock numbers.”

Wind gusting across St. Columbus Cemetery chilled me. “Let’s get you home, Mrs. Abbot.”

“Not yet. I want you to see.” She seethed and brandished a Geiger counter probe over her sister’s grave. “Jinny took sick. Strange. Her jaws done crumbled. Died like the other girls at her factory. The doctors made lame excuses. Damned liars is what they was.” The machine sputtered. “That sound like Diphtheria to you?”

To know more…lots more CLICK HERE.

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6 September 2024

Published September 4, 2024 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

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Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

AND THEN ALONG COMES MARY*

“Papa, where’s Baby Abigail?” asked four-year old George.

Despite his success in business, Colonel Zadock Pratt had little success in marriage.

After a few months, his first love, Beda had succombed to consumption. He’d then found solace in the arms of her sister Esther, only to lose her two years later.

Zadock sat his son and two-year-old daughter Julia on his lap.

Seven years with their mother (Abigail Sr.) had not been long enough. She had passed away three months before, ten days after giving birth.

Heaving a tearful sigh, Zadock whispered, “Baby Abigail’s gone to heaven to be with your Mama.”

*Note: A year later he married Abigail’s sister Mary. 😉

There’s so much out there about Zadock Pratt’s life that boiling any part of it down to only one hundred words was quite the challenge. CLICK HERE for more.

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23 August 2024

Published August 21, 2024 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 © Ted Strutz

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Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

THE GOOD LIFE

Kneading the dough of his latest creation, Cato gazed at Salonia. No longer a slave, but his young wife, great with his child. She had been his solace after the death of Licinia. It was hard for him to believe he would soon be a new father at the seasoned age of eighty.

“What are you making, husband?” she asked.

“I call it Placenta.” *

She took a deep breath through her nose. “An aroma fit for the gods. You are a marvelous cook, Cato. What’s in it?”

“Cheese, ground spelt, wheat, and plenty of honey. As sweet as my bride.”

*Pronounced pla-CHEN-ta and has nothing to do with afterbirth. 😉

Here’s a link to the RECIPE et al

To know more about the man CLICK

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A REVIEW TO RELISH

16 August 2024

Published August 14, 2024 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Mr. Binks

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Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

HEART OF GOLD WITH A SHMEAR

Bronia loved Kansas City. Who would have dreamed she would have such a home and business.

She loved her customers at M&M Bakery and never forgot a name.

“Do you hate the Germans?” People would ask her.

“You cannot condemn a nation. What will hate give me? I’d be a miserable, bitter person.”

One afternoon, a man burst into her deli wielding a gun. “Give me all your money or die!”

Undaunted, heart racing, Bronia stuffed a donut in his mouth. “You think I’m afraid? Hitler couldn’t kill me. No robber will kill me either!”

The would-be thief fled emptyhanded.

A bit more about this amazing woman and her legacy:

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9 August 2024

Published August 7, 2024 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Jennifer Pendergast

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Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

THE GOLDEN GOOSE

Clarabella climbed onto Alfred’s lap. “Tell me about Jacob, Grandad.”

“I was a lad in 1842, not quite nineteen, serving with the Coldstream Guard in the Canadian colonies. One of me mates had rescued a goose from a fox whilst on sentry duty. After that, the bird made himself quite at home, so we named him Jacob.”

Clarabella clapped her hands. “One night, Jacob spied some French rebels sneaking through the snow to attack. He squawked and flew at them. Your regiment showed their gratitude by making hiim an officer.”

“I’ve told you this story before, haven’t I?”

“O-Yes, Grandad.”

Some things you just can’t make up. CLICK HERE to meet the real Jacob

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2 August 2024

Published July 31, 2024 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

COME ON IN, THE WATER’S FINE

So begins my annual Sibling Revelry vacation . 😉 You can click on the link to see what it’s like. The pictures I take this year will be pretty much the same as last year, beach, sister-in-law, brother and fur babies.

With the Summer Olympics in the forefront, I went with a story about an Olympian I’d never heard for before. A swimmer, of course.

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

FROM STRENGTH TO STRENGTH

“Lay down. You are sick,” said Dad.

“But I’m not—”

“Do as I say!”

When they came for her, Dad told the Pro-Nazi Arrow Crossman, “She is the swimming champion of Hungary, and one day you will be happy you saved her life.”

“She’s a Jew.” The officer’s eyes flashed—one brown, one gray. Yet, he let her live.

In 1950 Eva Szekely won a gold medal for the 100m freestyle on Margaret Island in Budapest. A special prize was presented by the major of the communist political police. He smiled at her, eyes shining—one brown, one gray.

To learn more CLICK HERE

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26 July 2024

Published July 24, 2024 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

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Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

TREDEGAR 1911

Tears streamed from my papa’s eyes, soaking his beard. “For this we fled Russia—to be slaughtered in Wales?”

I trembled. Last night I’d hidden under my bed, covering my ears to blot out angry shouts and the crash of shattering glass.

“Thank the Almighty we are alive,” said Mama.

“Ha! If God lived on the earth, the goyim would break His windows, too.”

At that moment a Christian youth entered our tailor shop, head bowed, and handed Papa a banknote. “Father sends his apologies.” The boy took a broom from the floor. “Perhaps we can help rebuild.”

For more on the history CLICK HERE

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Thank you, Dale for such a lovely review on LAST DANCE WITH ANNIE! 😀

12 July 2024

Published July 10, 2024 by rochellewisoff

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Genre: Histerical Fiction
Word Count: 100

THE THLOT PICKENS

“It was a matter of time,” I told Lois. “The man was evil personified. He cast a dark shadow on everything and everyone. It boiled down to where and when.”

Lois looked up from her register. “How did you end up doing it?”

“Derringer at close range.”

A gasp interrupted our conversation. I turned to see a blue-haired lady clutching a cantaloupe, her eyes wide and mouth agape.

Busted! My cheeks blazed. I flashed a sheepish grin. “Sorry, I didn’t realize anyone else was listening.”

“Not to worry,” Lois pointed at me. “She’s just a crazy writer.”

It’s not exactly fiction. An author needs to be careful what she says in public. 😉 Believe me, this character really did need killing.

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5 July 2024

Published July 3, 2024 by rochellewisoff

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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.

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