Make Every Word Count

All posts in the Make Every Word Count category

THE DAY THE MUSIC DIED

Published August 25, 2019 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman takes us to the capital of Latvia, in Riga’s Old Town. Your mission is to write up 150 words inspired by the location. Feel free to use the image supplied, or venture around Riga for something that inspires you. You may write fact or fiction, poetry or prose. The only only requirement is to keep your piece at 150 words or less, as a consideration to others.

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

As always, thanks to Karen and Josh for heading up the challenge. 

Click the frog to read other stories and add your own. 

Peitav Synagogue in Riga, Latvia was built in 1905. It has survived the Holocaust and bombings in the 1990’s.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

THE DAY THE MUSIC DIED

Katya played Chopin’s “Berceuse” on the imaginary piano in her coat pocket with trembling fingers. She tried to keep pace on the frozen path.

Without success, she tried to block out the image of her father, the cantor, lying in the street, his magnificent voice forever stilled. Latvia’s November wind whipped through her.  

She remembered when Professor Philipp at the conservatory in Paris proclaimed, “Katya Abramis, you have an exquisite talent.”

“Schnell!”

A drunken soldier ripped an infant from a young mother’s arms and shot him. She dropped to her knees only to suffer the same fate as her son. The snow turned red beneath them.

“Shoes in this pile, clothes in that.”

Katya obeyed. What choice did she have?

Standing naked at the edge of a deep pit, Katya pictured her beloved synagogue and heard Papa sing “Lord of the World, Who was, Who is, Who is to come.”   

 

There is little on the internet about Cantor Abram Abramis or his daughter Katya, renowned pianist of her time. Both perished in the 1941 Massacre in Riga. CLICK HERE for my source. 

אנו זוכר’ם

 

WEEKEND WRITING PROMPT – VINTAGE

Published August 24, 2019 by rochellewisoff

A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend.  How you use the prompt is up to you.  Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like.  Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise.  If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in Sammi’s comment section.

Word Prompt

Vintage

Challenge

THE CLASSICS

There’s something sobering about finding things at flea markets I remember from childhood in the vintage section. What does that make me?

 

WAKE-UP CALL

Published August 21, 2019 by rochellewisoff

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

FOR A GOOD TIME CLICK THE FROG!

This is something I don’t think I’ve done before. I’m back for a third time. 😀

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

WAKE-UP CALL

            Bart slipped into the booth across from Marla. “That was some wedding yesterday.” He clutched the ring in his pocket waiting for the right moment.

            She swished her luxurious hair over her toned shoulders. “Your sister and her groom make an odd couple.”

            “They’re so in love. To think I set ‘em up for laughs—him being such a scrawny runt and her being—”

            “Plump?”

            “I’ve always teased her about it.” Bart hung his head.    

            “I so get it.” Marla giggled. “I’ll have a salad. How about you?”

             Swallowing, he released the ring. “Y’know, I’ve suddenly lost my appetite.”

THERE IS LOVE

Published August 21, 2019 by rochellewisoff

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

For a good time, click me!

I’m back for seconds.

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

THERE IS LOVE

            The organist played Paul Stookey’s “Wedding Song.”

            Denise strolled toward Grant holding her father’s arm. Her round face shone. Grant’s heart raced. Why would such a beautiful woman choose him? 

            His best man Bart elbowed him. “Here comes the wide-track bride.”

            “If you think so little of her, why’d you set us up?”

            “She’s my sister. I felt sorry for her.”

            Grant remembered how nervous he’d been until their fateful blind date when her periwinkle eyes and infectious laughter put him at ease.   

            He elbowed Bart. “Make one more wisecrack about my lovely wife and you’ll be my toothless brother-in-law.”

*

*

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If you’ve never heard it, here’s your chance to hear Paul Stookey singing his Wedding Song

23 August 2019

Published August 21, 2019 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

So I’m not blue. Click on me anyway. 

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

CHEMISTRY

“He has a great personality,” said her brother Bart.

Twenty pounds overweight with no prospects, Denise agreed to a blind date.  

Grant was a lulu—kinky orange hair and squinted eyes behind thick horn-rim glasses.  

He fidgeted and checked his watch. “We ordered dinner an hour ago.”

“Yeah, I’m wasting away to a ton.”

“Stop it. You’re just right.”

Denise’s cheeks warmed. “Really?”

“And pretty.”

She relaxed. They chatted away like two old friends until their orders came.  

“Filet of dinosaur.” She skewered her steak. “Yum.”   

He flashed a dazzling smile. “Bart didn’t lie. You do have a great personality.”

 

PENANCE

Published August 18, 2019 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman travels to the Florida Keys at the bottom of the United States. Like the other Torch Keys, it was probably named for the native Torchwood tree.

Stroll and around and see if you can find something that interests you. When you’re done, write 150 words and link to the prompt using the frog below. Remember, reading and commenting is part of the fun!

Thanks to Josh and Karen for hosting this weekly challenge.

To play add your story click the frog.

Sunset Siesta Florida Key

This week I revisited an oldie posted for Friday Fictioneers in January of 2013. It seems to fit the prompt so I added 50 more words. 😀 

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

PENANCE 

            Jonathan gazed at his reflection in the cracked mirror. Self-loathing flooded him. He took pen in hand, the hand that only an hour before had closed the eyes of a deceased child, still hot with fever. Imagining his beloved’s sweet countenance, Jonathan wrote:

                                                3 December in the year of our Lord 1765

Dearest Catherine,

            It is with deep regret I write that I shan’t return to England. I cannot for I would not have you plight your troth to a murderer.

            Now I must remain to make amends.  

            At the first the savage misliked me and I feared him. But over time we became friends. Together we laughed and fished the Seminole way in this Florida paradise.

            Surely these people threaten us with war. Yet it was neither my musket nor my dagger that felled my warrior brother and his son, but my white man’s curse—smallpox. 

            Penitently yours,

                        Jonathan

16 August 2019

Published August 14, 2019 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 © Jan Wayne Fields

Click on the Frog! 

Genre: Hysterical Friction

Word Count: 100

ALL THE AMENITIES

            May 1984. We couldn’t wait to take advantage of our newly-purchased lot in a nearby recreational development. So we packed our children-plus-one and everything we needed for a successful camping trip.

            Sometime in the night the soothing buzz of locusts gave way to thunder and driving rain that demolished our tents.

            Thanks to the help of a sympathetic grounds attendant, our excursion ended in a half-finished bathroom with three bedraggled boys and one engorged mother whose inconsolable baby chose the worst time to wean himself.

            Shivering, I muttered to my grumpy husband. “Someday we’ll look back at this and laugh.”

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