Make Every Word Count

All posts in the Make Every Word Count category

R IS FOR ROCKET

Published October 14, 2018 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman goes to Roswell, New Mexico, USA.

Your mission is to write up to 150 words inspired by this week’s location. You can use the image supplied or you can visit Roswell yourself via Google Maps and find your own inspiration.

Once your piece is polished, share it with others using the linkup below. Reading and commenting on others’ work is part of the fun.

In April my husband and I visited Roswell so I took the liberty of using my own photo. No matter what your take on aliens,Roswell is a major tourist trap. Kind of fun but next time I want to go to the Grand Canyon. 😉

Thanks to Karen and Josh for facilitating the fun. 

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Genre: Questionable

Word Count: 150

R IS FOR ROCKET

My son tugs at my coat. “Mommy, can I get the green man souvenir?”

            His sister jumps up and down and squeals. “I want the stuffed alien so I could sleep with him. Say ‘yes’ pleeeeeeease, Mommeeee.”

            I shake my head and glare at my husband. “I can’t believe you talked me into coming to this tourist trap? You can’t walk five feet without running into another gift shop. And they all have the same pathetic junk.”

            Taking his wallet from his pocket, he hands the cashier just the right amount for the toys. “Aw, lighten up and have a little fun.” His eyes glow and spin.

            My daughter’s antennae poke out from under her wig. She cuddles her stuffed friend. “I’m sleepy. Can we go back to the hotel?”

            The teenage clerk gasps. “Y-you aren’t from around here, are you?”

            “Next year, Phlox,” I mutter, “we vacation on Gorgon.”

😎

😎

😎

Shmoozing with Aliens in Roswell

12 October 2018

Published October 10, 2018 by rochellewisoff

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As always, please be considerate of your fellow Fictioneers and keep your stories to 100 words. (Title is not included in the word count.)  Many thanks. 

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

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

CRY OF THE HUMAN SPIRIT

Ten-year-old Annie had never ridden on a train. Cousin Anastasia said it would take her and her brother to Springfield.  How odd. Stasia never kissed her before. What did Uncle John mean when he muttered, “Almshouse”?

            “D’ya think Nellie and Mama and Johnny are happy in Heaven, Jimmie?” Annie asked.

            His feverish snoring answered her. She wished she could see the scenery whizzing by.  

            “Not to worry, little one,” said her invisible faerie friend with an Irish brogue. “Someday you’ll do great things.”

            “Me? How? I’m only an ignorant blind girl nobody wants.”

            “Trust me, darlin’ Annie Sullivan. You will.”   

 

Helen Keller with Annie Sullivan Macy (Teacher)

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5 October 2018

Published October 3, 2018 by rochellewisoff

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As always, please be considerate of your fellow Fictioneers and keep your stories to 100 words. (Title is not included in the word count.)  Many thanks. 

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 © Sandra Crook

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Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 100

SHELL GAME

We flocked to the record racks to buy his LP’s. I did my best to memorize those monologues. Remember the slush ball?

            “Junior Barns, you gunky.” That one made me laugh until tears rolled.

            I spied Scotty, partner of undercover tennis bum Kelly. With humor, they solved crime after crime.

            Every time I drove my Beetle, I heard him say to a raucous audience, “When the fan belt breaks we use a rubber band.”

            The accusations rocked my world as Bill Cosby plummeted from his pedestal. A deep sense of loss floods me.

            The jokes aren’t funny anymore, are they?  

 

28 September 2018

Published September 26, 2018 by rochellewisoff

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As always, please be considerate of your fellow Fictioneers and keep your stories to 100 words. (Title is not included in the word count.)  Many thanks. 

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 © Yvette Prior

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

THE BUTLER DID IT

Six-year-old Billy earned a bit here and there on the Post-Civil War streets of Richmond dancing for anyone who’d watch.  

            A passerby tossed a penny at the boy’s feet. “Cute little darky.”

            Determined to be more than a ‘pickaninny,’ Billy tapped his way from Vaudeville to the Harlem, and, ultimately, to Broadway. Top hat and tails became his trademarks.

            Hollywood relegated him to servant roles.

            “Everything’s copacetic.” He said as he instructed his diminutive partner. “Take small steps or you know what happens.”

            Slipping her lily-white hand in Bill “Bojangles” Robinson’s, Shirley Temple giggled. “Yeah, I fall on my keester.”

   ****

Here’s a taste of what I’m talking about:

21 September 2018

Published September 19, 2018 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: Whimsy

Word Count: 100

BUMBERSHOOT

Dark clouds gathered, threatening to spoil Eric and Alistair’s sightseeing.

After months of emails and planning, the two blog buddies decided to meet in London since Eric had never been away from the States.

“Did you think to bring a brolly?”  

Eric’s brow furrowed. “Why would I bring a trolley?”

Rain pelted Alistair’s forehead and dribbled into his eyes. “Are you deaf? I said ‘brolly.’ Not trolley. You know. A gamp.” He sputtered. “Can’t you Yanks understand plain English?”

Eric shrugged. “It certainly rains a lot over here. As you Brits say, it’s a good job I brought an umbrella.”

 

 

WHO NU?

Published September 16, 2018 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman is on the continent of Africa, in Bamboi, Ghana. There is not a lot of streetview available in this area, but you are free to roam within the borders of Ghana for your inspiration.

Your mission is to write up to 150 words inspired by the prompt. Once your piece is polished, share it with others using the link up below.

Reading and commenting on others’ work is part of the fun! Thanks as always to Karen and Josh for facilitating.

This week, while I stayed in Ghana, I went to a different village. I had to go where the muse took me. A familiar theme for me, but there’s always something new to learn. New people to meet. 

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 150

WHO NU?

When I was a child in an Orthodox home, Shabbos as it was called by my Polish immigrant grandparents, was a non-negotiable. All work ceased on Friday night. This included tearing toilet paper and flipping light switches. We spent every boring Saturday in shul, synagogue. Havdalah, the separation between Shabbos and the rest of the week, between the holy and the mundane, marked the end of my torture.

            As soon as I was old enough, I joined the Peace Corps. I loved the feeling of helping people less fortunate than myself. I was making a difference. As much as I hated to admit it I was homesick. I even missed Shabbos.

            In a village called Sefwi Wiawso, Ghana I met a group of Jews who invited me to spend Shabbat with them. After a Kosher dinner, I joined my new mishpokhah for Havdalah. Fragrant spices and candlelight replaced my loneliness.

*Mishpocha – family

*Nu? -Yiddish for ‘so?’ 

CLICK here to watch Havdalah, Sefwi style. 

14 September 2018

Published September 12, 2018 by rochellewisoff

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Please be considerate of 70 or more participants and keep your story to 100 words. Thank you. 

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 © J Hardy Carroll

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Genre: Some might find it humorous

Word Count: 100

This is based on fact. I recently was called for jury duty. A day spent waiting…and reading. I think I can blame Russell for the inspiration. When I wasn’t sketching or snoozing, I was reading my signed copy of “The Perils of Heavy Thinking.” That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. 

MEMBER OF THE BORED

My day in court arrives. I spend hours in a sterile waiting room with 74 other potential jurors before moving to the courtroom. To pass the time I sketch the man in front of me. 

            Who among us will be chosen to spend the next five days deliberating? Not I.

            So…  

            Will it be the blonde with a rock on her finger the size of Texas? Or maybe the brunette whose attributes are barely contained will catch the judge’s eye. Or what about the dainty young thing in striped hoodie and floral pajama pants?

            The possibilities fire this writer’s imagination.           

***

Not Boring 

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