16 January 2015

Published January 14, 2015 by rochellewisoff

Remember the goal is to write a COMPLETE story. BEGINNING, MIDDLE AND END.

The next photo is the PROMPT. What speaks to you? Tell us in a hundred words or less.

*Note: To share a photo you think would make a good prompt please send it to this email address: runtshell@gmail.com. Thank you*

My story follows the prompt and the blue inLinkz frog. I enjoy honest comments. 😉

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Jan Wayne Fields

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

WORDS OF WISDOM

“I pressed your clothes,” said Mary. “Mind Dad and look after your brother whilst I’m in hospital.”

“Thanks, Mum.” Paul buttoned his shirt. “Deese are me bezzies.”

“Stop it. I’ve taught you better, now haven’t I?”

“Not half.” He quipped in falsetto. “The Queen’s English. Ever so posh.”

She looked as if she wanted to scold him more. Instead, she embraced him and said, “If I don’t come back…”

Emptiness flooded the boy.

“Of course you’re coming back. Who’ll cook for us if you don’t?”

“There will be an answer.” Mary McCartney kissed her son and whispered, “Let it be.”

*

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Voice of a Spanish Dancer – Refracted Bliss

Published January 10, 2015 by rochellewisoff

REFRACTED BLISS

Sub-zero-degree temperatures and frigid winds for the past week have kept me indoors. Whenever I’ve thought about making the less-than-a-mile trek to the fitness center I’ve talked myself out of it. Although my vacation plans included swimming to my heart’s content, stinging cold has made it easy to curl up with a hot cup of coffee instead.

This morning the walls close in on me and I’m drowning in a sea of despair. I know what I need to do. No matter how cold, wet or icy, I’ll let nothing stand between me and the lap pool.

I pack my gym bag and layer two sweaters, jeans and a heavy coat over my swimsuit. My car’s thermostat reads 16º.

In the locker room I hurriedly peel off the layers and head for the pool. It’s uninhabited and the water’s a clear sheet. All mine.

I slip in and submerge fully then propel myself through the cool water that rushes over and carries me to another place.

Sunlight shining through the long windows paints ribbons across the pool’s blue floor.

Smoother than silk, water is a lover’s gentle caress that massages my bare skin and whispers peaceful words of reassurance in my ear. “You are alive. You are changing. You are safe.”

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It was so worth it!

9 January 2015

Published January 7, 2015 by rochellewisoff

The following photo is the ubiquitous PHOTO PROMPT. Study it. There are many roads you can take. Tell us where it leads in a hundred words or less.

*BEGINNING, MIDDLE AND END *

As always, my story follows the prompt and inLinkz. I welcome and appreciate constructive crit.

PHOTO PROMPT – © Copyright Jean L. Hays

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

WILD ONIONS

Catherine DuSable raised her hands to the sky and danced along the shore of the Eschikagou until a soft voice interrupted her reverie.

“Mama, I can’t sleep.”

Catherine turned to see Susannah whose tight black curls and dark skin glowed in the moonlight. So like her beloved Jean-Baptiste. Catherine scooped the child into her arms.

“When I was little I prayed to Kichi Muhnido, the Great Spirit, for peaceful dreams.”

“You mean St. Raphael. Papa says…”

“For him I am Catholic, but in my heart of hearts I will always be Kitihawa, of the Bodéwadmi, keepers of the sacred fire.

This is primarily a work of my imagination. I followed the history trail but every account varied a little as did the spellings of the names. Here is a link to one of the articles.

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

26 December 2014

Published December 24, 2014 by rochellewisoff

JUST IN!!! DUE TO THE BUSY-NESS OF THE HOLIDAYS, I’M EXTENDING THIS PROMPT FOR ANOTHER WEEK. IF YOU HAVEN’T HAD TIME TO WRITE BECAUSE OF FAMILY CELEBRATIONS AND WHAT-NOT THIS IS YOUR CHANCE TO POST A BARN BURNER FOR THE NEW YEAR.

***STAY CALM AND WRITE***

The next in this line of photos is the PHOTO PROMPT. Is the staircase going up or just coming down? Where does it take you? Tell me your story in a hundred words or less.

My story follows the prompt and the inLinkz blue frog. I appreciate honest comments and constructive crit.

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright -Björn Rudberg

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Recently, I woke to find that our internet was down. Cut off from my online friends, a sense of panic flooded me. I felt empty and alone. The what-if’s bombarded me.

Genre: Speculative Fiction

Word Count: 100

EMP

Couched in complacency, we never saw it coming.

The first few hours weren’t bad. We figured the electric company would remedy the problem while we enjoyed sandwiches and chips by candlelight and a break from television.

After a month we were still in darkness and the grocery shelves were bare.

My car with its solid state circuit for a brain is a useless hunk of metal.

Local doctors are at a loss to treat the simplest diseases.

Real books are in demand.

We’re learning to live off the land but the internet is dead and the silence is deafening.

19 December 2014

Published December 17, 2014 by rochellewisoff

The next photo is the PROMPT. I can only imagine what’s going through your mind as you look at it. 😉 I dare you to think outside the box. I double-bug dare you!

My story follows the prompt and the blue inLinkz froggy. I appreciate honest comments as well as constructive criticism.

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Douglas M. MacIlroy

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Genre: Hysterical Fiction

Word Count: 100

BUG TUSSLE

“Well now it’s time to say goodbye to Jed and all his kin…”

“Dumb show.” Dottie switched off the television. “Bug Tussle. Who’d give a town such a stupid name?”

“Grandpa and I got hitched there,” said Gran without looking up from her knitting.

“You’re kidding.”

“Bug Tussle, Texas.” The yarn strands between Gran’s fingers blurred. “I was only fifteen. Grandpa sure could sweet-talk. Judge Fink officiated.”

“Fink? Don’t tease me, Grandma.”

“James Bates Fink. He’d marry anyone for a dollar.”

“What did your parents say?”

“Well, Daddy lowered his shotgun and hugged us. Your mama came a month later.”

Yes, Virginia, there really is a Bug Tussle, Texas.

© Original Artwork -Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

12 December 2014

Published December 10, 2014 by rochellewisoff

The following photo is this week’s PROMPT. What stands out? What type of story does it tell you? Tell us in a hundred words or less.

My story comes after the prompt and the blue inLinkz frog. I appreciate honest comments and crit. The artwork afterward is original and used for the sole purpose of illustrating my story. Permission required to use it. Thank you and shalom.

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Sandra Crook

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Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 100

GRACE

In the midst of running, swimming and daily calisthenics, all at a frenetic pace, I fantasized about onion rings and fried chicken. Low numbers were all that mattered. One hundred calories per meal. Twenty pink pills to purge them. The scale hovered between eighty-five and eighty-four.

“You like my new jeans?” I asked my friend Linda. “I can’t believe they fit.”

“What size?” Her ice-blue gaze met mine.

“Zero.”

“You’ll look nice in your child-size coffin.”

__________

Now I run and swim at a comfortable pace and not a day goes by that I don’t thank Linda for my life.

Author’s Note: After I made the difficult decision to move on, Linda and I tossed those skinny jeans down the trash compactor in the backroom of our store. I don’t tell this to garner sympathy. It’s something I went through and have conquered with the help of excellent therapy and good friends. Life is all grist for the mill, isn’t it?

5 December 2014

Published December 3, 2014 by rochellewisoff

The next photo is the PHOTO PROMPT. What does it say to you? Tell us in one hundred words or less. And remember to

MAKE. EVERY. WORD. COUNT.

My story follows the prompt. I appreciate honest comments. Thank you.

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright Janet Webb

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

IN THE BLEAK MIDWINTER, LONG AGO

“It’s so cold!” Marybeth shivered by the fireplace.

“This ain’t nothing.” Grandma Hattie’s wizened cheeks glistened in the flickering light. “1697, the year I turned twelve, winter commenced mid-November and by the last of March there was no sign of spring. The good Christians of Leonardtown blamed my teacher and friend Moll Dyer.”

“You knew her?”

“To this day I see them with their torches and tankards hollering, ‘witch! witch!’ as they set her hut ablaze.”

“They say she put a hex on the village, Grandma.”

“If anyone cursed them it was their precious God for slaying an innocent lamb.”

And

28 November 2014

Published November 26, 2014 by rochellewisoff

The picture below is the PHOTO PROMPT. There’s much to look at. What do you see? Tell us in one hundred words or less.

My story follows the prompt and the inLinkz blue frog. I appreciate honest comments and crit.

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Randy Mazie

*Note: I apologize for any confusion over the inLinkz tool and encourage you to contact inLinkz.com DIRECTLY for help. Also, I’ve been told that the blue frog does a disappearing act from this page for some. I don’t know why this happens nor is there anything I can do about it. If you want to vent about it feel free to email me at Runtshell@gmail.com. I’ll do what I can.

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Genre: Realistic/Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

WE BEGIN WITH THE YOUNG

“What’s this, Opa?” asked Gretchen. “Is it a storybook? I like the pretty gold bird on it.”

Herrick gently took the blue, leather-bound volume from his granddaughter.

“This was given to me a very long time ago.”

“Once upon a time?”

Gathering Gretchen onto his lap, Herrick closed his eyes and remembered the day the youth leader issued him a fresh uniform and the virulent tome. So proud he’d been to serve his country. So fervent.

“Will you read it to me, Opa?”

Herrick fished a box of matches from his pocket.

“Nein, Liebling. I ‘ve a better plan for it.”

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ORIGINAL ARTWORK – Copyright-Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Use by permission only.

21 November 2014

Published November 19, 2014 by rochellewisoff

The following photo is the PROMPT. Whether you spell it ‘tire’ or ‘tyre’ doesn’t matter. What matters is what you see. Step outside the box. I dare you. 😉

My story is after the prompt and the blue inLinkz frog. I appreciate honest comments and crit.

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Claire Fuller

It has come to my attention through a myriad of enthusiastic and well meaning comments in my comment section that inLinkz is requiring a log in from those using the code. I apologize for any confusion and encourage you to contact inLinkz.com DIRECTLY for help. Also, I’ve been told that the blue frog does a disappearing act from this page for some. I don’t know why this happens nor is there anything I can do about it. If you want to vent about it feel free to email me at Runtshell@gmail.com. I’ll do what I can.

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

PATENT US 5104 A

After weeks of rolling waves and seasickness, Robert William Thomson arrived in America. Banished. A fugitive all because he refused to go to Seminary. Sentenced to apprentice as a merchant with his uncle in Charleston.

The weary boy tried to find a comfortable position in the carriage as it lurched and bounced along the rock strewn road. His back ached with each bump and he longed for his beloved Scotland.

“I couldn’t learn Latin either,” said his uncle with a wink. “What would ye really like to do, laddie?”

“I’d like to take the corners off these bloody wheels.”

.

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14 November 2014

Published November 12, 2014 by rochellewisoff

The next PHOTO is the PROMPT. What kind of story does it tell you? Tell the rest of us in a hundred words or less. Would your story make sense without the photo?

My story follows the photo and the blue frog. I appreciate honest comments.

PHOTO PROMPT -Copyright-Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

FIRST DRAFT

“Can’t you imagine little Harry trying to climb the fig trees?” Ida’s eyes glittered. “He would’ve been three this year.”

“I miss him, too,” Harvey whispered.

Although his heart ached with loss, Harvey still counted his blessings. What could such a vibrant woman possibly see in him, a wheelchair bound invalid thirty years her senior?

“Maybe we’ll have another son. For now we have one hundred twenty acres of prime, undeveloped California land to subdivide.” He brushed a tear from her cheek with a kiss. “What shall we call our little town? Harryville?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Let’s call it Hollywood.”

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