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.
Charles was a glassblower at the amusement park called Worlds of Fun where I spent a summer as a caricature artist. I loved to watch him create his glass menagerie.
Years later I visited his shop in a local mall.
“Such beautiful work,” I said. “You’ve only gotten better.”
“Are you still drawing?” he asked.
“Of course.” Then, I saw a figure on a shelf—a dancer. “I’ve sketched her many times! I must have her.”
Instead of selling me that one, he crafted another on the spot—just for me.
Her fluid choreography will forever grace my whatnot shelf.
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.
“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.
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.
Happy May, Everyone! It seems whatever issues WP has had with sign ins and commentors continues. I had a few comments from Annonymous last week. I noticed also that I’m not the only one. A few times I’ve had to sign back in to leave a comment. It is rather irritating. If you could leave your name it would be helpful. Thank you.
Genre: Coming of Age Word Count: 100
MUZAK TO MY EARS
In my teens I was a raving Beatles fan. Oh, the memories each of their songs evokes from different stages of my adolescence.
I still have my collection of vinyl 45 rpm records. Not familiar? Look them up. No time to elaborate in one hundred words.
One afternoon my mother came into my room as I was rocking to “I am the Walrus.” With a disgusted look she said, “You only tell yourself you like that dreck.”
Seriously I still love the crazy cacophony.
Imagine my surprise the other day when I heard it as background music in the supermarket.
***********
Last Dance With Annie, by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, will be available June 4th in paperback, hardcover, and ebook. Preorder on Amazon, Nook, Kobo, and more!
“Much flows through the pages of “Last Dance” and all of it is worth reading. In this well-written, poignant story, Wisoff-Fields offers the reader a front row seat into less-spoken-of and rarely seen realities of lives weighted by years of expectation, exploitation, secrecy, trauma, and turmoil; but also to the powers of love, truth, and creativity to offer healing and feed hope. As Elise and those around her lose, then seek to find their step, we weep with, cheer for, and dance with them. Hurrah, Rochelle, for a story well told!”
Na’ama Yehuda, MSC SLP (Author: Communicating Trauma, Emilia, Outlawed Hope, Apples in Applath)
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.
“It’s time to clean this cluttered basement.” Stacks of boxes from our last move wait on shelves to be gone through—later.
Opening a cardboard box, I sneeze at the musty odor. I pick up a tattered paperback and thumb through its yellowed pages.
Bunnicula.
How my now-grown son and I laughed at the antics of the family pets. I lose myself in the adventures of the dog, cat and, of course, the titular vegetable-sucking vampire rabbit.
“Look at the time.” I return the novel to the box. “I’ll get back to cleaning—later.”
Note: Bunnicula was a fun read. And my story is true. I really could use some organizational help here. 😉
And on the subject of books:
My book LAST DANCE WITH ANNIE is available for ebook preorder on the following sights: HERE, HERE and HERE! Release Date is June 4! If you’re not an ebook fan, paperback and hard back copies will be available on and after that date. 😀
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.
Here it is! The official cover of LAST DANCE WITH ANNIE, due out sometime in May or June. The poem in the following story is the beginning of the book and one that I actually wrote when I was in the midst of the battle.
Genre: Non-Fiction Word Count: 100
HIS SUCCESS STORY
The Dancer
The steps used to
Be simple,
Every leap and turn;
Graceful, exultant dance.
But now
Annie leads me to murky depths
Of despair
And
Threatens,
In the most literal sense,
To devour
Soul, spirit, and body.
I’m tortured by
Pain on the faces of those
Who care.
Helpless to halt this
Insane choreography
I seek resolution
Via self-destruction.
After reading my poem, Wayne asked, “What do you hope to accomplish by starving yourself to death?”
“They’ll be better off without me.”
*****
In Memory of Wayne Clinton Witcher, my ever-patient therapist. I will always consider myself your success story.
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.
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.
One summer I went with a group to Alaska. It took time to get used to the sunlight streaming through our hotel window until 11:00 PM. The weather was incredible. Nothing like the summer heat and humidity in the Midwest.
My friend and I decided to take a stroll through a nearby neighborhood that looked like any other US suburb. Until we came face to face with Bullwinkle.
“Back up slowly,” said Clint. “Don’t let him know you’re afraid.”
“Too late.” I trembled, fascinated by the moose’s stature and enormous antlers. “Something tells me we’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto.”
This is a true story. Although the quotes might not be totally accurate. 😉 If you’re familiar with Rocky and Bullwinkle you might recognize Rocky’s favorite esclamation “Hokey Smoke.”
Rocky and many of the other characters were voiced by voiceover legend June Foray:
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.
Had it not been for scouting, I might never have seen the great outdoors beyond my backyard. My parents adhered to the eleventh commandment—“Jews don’t camp.”
Overnights were the best. Following an afternoon hike, we’d gather round the campfire. Our mouths and fingers gooey from roasted marshmallows, we topped off the day scaring each other with ghost stories.
“My uncle found a man’s head in the grass,” said Lucy in a loud whisper.
Margo added, “His golden eyes glowed.”
Back home in my own bed, I wouldn’t sleep for a month without a nightlight.
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.
Nuta Kotlvarenko loved cowboy movies, particularly ones starring his hero Tom Mix.
One evening in 1913, Mama handed a passport to Nuta’s older brother Julius. “Ukraine is not safe for Jewish boys. We’re sending you to America where the streets are paved with gold.”
“I don’t want to go.” Nuta’s eyes stung.
***
Following years of odd jobs, Nuta, now Nudie Cohn, found his niche as the rodeo tailor. Stars from Roy Rogers to Elvis Presley paid thousands for rhinestone-studded Nudie suits.
“Nudie,” asked a fan. “Why don’t your boots ever match?”
Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple 