9 May 2025

Published May 7, 2025 by rochellewisoff

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 © Lisa Fox

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I admit this is quite similar to a story/rant i wrote five years ago February Nothing’s changed. If anything things have only gotten worse. So you may refer this as a sequel.

Genre: Anectdotal Rant
Word Count: 100

ONE PILL CAN KILL

Every day a new one appears. If you live in these Divided States, you know what I’m talking about. Prescription drug advertisements.

Who comes up with those colorful names? They’re insane, usually starting with the letters X and Z. They treat everything from obesity to bipolar disorder.

Ya gotta love ‘em—from bright and breezy to sensual and sleezy. They all make me queasy. While happy people prance across the screen celebrating life, the gentle voice over recites a list of possible side effects.

Wait! I got lost somewhere between anaphylaxis and cardiac arrest. What was this supposed to treat?

***************************

Okay, this one starts with A. But it’s pretty much what I’m talking about.

10 January 2025

Published January 8, 2025 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Lisa Fox

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Genre: Anecdote
Word Count: 100

PURPLE PROSE

Addicted? Me? Nah. No way.

It is true that I’ve always loved purple—all shades of it, from pale lavender to deep violet.

It’s more than a color, or colour, depending on your locale. In North Carolina there’s even a boutique called, of all things, Purpleologist. They sell everything from knickknacks to jewelry, sunglasses, and clothes.

Twelve years ago, at a writer’s workshop, we bloggers were encouraged to create a memorable title to build our brand. “Addicted to Purple” was born—a bit of humor that seems to have caught on. That’s all.

Addicted? Me? Nah, I can stop anytime.

Here’s a link to Russell Gayer’s take on my addiction that he posted in 2012. (Note, he was at that same workshop)

A few years back, someone sent me the link to this song. He said it should be my theme song. 😉 It is my iPhone’s ringtone. 😀 What can I say? It works.

I can quit anytime.

20 December 2024

Published December 18, 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 ©Sandra Crook

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Genre: Non-Fiction
Word Count: 100

It’s one of those “the muse is tired and not speaking much.” Holidays on the horizon and my mind is going in too many directions. So I revamped an oldie from the Weekend Writing Prompt. 😀 Enjoy.

THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME

My parents bought a single-story house in 1956. Moving from a tiny apartment with two small children, the house seemed like a palace.

When mom and dad passed, Jan and I bought my brother’s half of our inheritance and moved in with our three rambunctious sons.

At the time it seemed like a good idea since it was a nicer part of town with better schools.

After twenty-five years, we moved from the nine-hundred-fifty-square-foot cracker box and declining neighborhood.

When asked why empty nesters would buy a house three times larger, with vaulted ceilings we grin and reply, “Breathing room.”

A few pictures below. Mostly taken four years ago. But you get the idea.

Three times the size of that little house, to us, this place is a castle. We bought it 17 years ago and I still love it!

6 December 2024

Published December 4, 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

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Genre: Fiction
Word Count: 100

I
EXCEPTING ALICE

Despite my husband’s protests, I gather seashells along a Massachusetts beach. They are my favorite souvenirs from my travels.

I pick up a rock and hold it in the palm of my hand. A whimsical drawing of a cat smiles at me.

Later as we have lunch at Theresa’s Stockbridge Café, I show my find to our server.

“Oh!” she exclaims. “You don’t see many of those on the beach these days. That’s an Alice original.”

My heart pounds. “You mean as in the Alice?”

“Yes!”

Suddenly I find myself singing, “You can get anything you want at Alice’s Restaurant.”

The photo prompt this week is mine and while it’s true that I can’t resist collecting shells on the beach, the ones pictured came from St. Thomas, Florida, and Wilmington NC. I’ve never been to Massachusetts. 😉

Click the images below for the full pictures:

This is a phoo of one of Alice's painted rocks. She enjoyed leaving them around for others to find and enjoy.

Genre: Tribute – Non Fiction
Word Count: 100

II
REMEMBER ALICE?

Alice’s Restaurant wasn’t really a song about Alice—or a restaurant. It’s just the name of the song.

As the story goes, “It all started two Thanksgivings ago…”

Rock stations across the United States play Arlo Guthrie’s classic narrative every Thanksgiving which falls in late November.

While she enjoyed cooking, Alice Brock never expected fame or fortune to come of it. In recent years, she reminisced how, thanks to her “funny looking friend with the guitar,” and his eighteen-minute ramble, she became the “living legend Earth Mother.”

She left us this year, a week before Thanksgiving. Rest in peace, Alice.

CLICK to know more.

And if you really want to step back in time, (or have eighteen minutes with nothing better to do) here’s the song about Alice…and the restaurant:

29 November 204

Published November 27, 2024 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

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Genre: Personal Musing
Word Count: 100

COME WHAT MAY

Every day it’s a-gettin’ closer.
Goin’ faster than a roller coaster…
I think back to the day we said our “I do’s.”
Sometimes we did. And all too often we didn’t.
Three babies came. Thankfully, one at a time—each with his own unique personality.
We weathered the lean times.
Hamburger Helper was what was for dinner.
We endured the alone times—both physical and emotional.
We survived chicken pox, broken bones and injuries requiring stitches.
Every day it’s a-gettin’ closer
Goin’ faster than a roller coaster
Life was never ever neat.
Love like yours has surely come my way.

Tomorrow marks our 53rd year of marriage. Our parents gave us six months. I guess we beat those odds. Sometimes I think we stayed together out of pure stubborness. At any rate, I’ve waxed reflective this month. Thank you for understanding. 😉

If you don’t already have an earworm, let me help. 😉

12 July 2024

Published July 10, 2024 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Ronda Del Boccio

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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.

***********

22 December 2023

Published December 20, 2023 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Rowena Curtin

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Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

NEIGHBORHOOD WATCH

Ken McElroy was pure-D meanness.

Hundreds of stories circulated in Skidmore, Missouri. All true. He packed a shotgun. You didn’t say no to him, or he’d burn down your house or kill your dog.

Marshall Dunbar was so scared of McElroy he quit and got a job at a cable company.

One summer night, Daddy told Mama, “That town bully needs killin’.”

On a July afternoon in 1981, some folks crowded around McElroy’s truck outside a tavern. Two gunshots. Blam! Goodbye, Bully.

For forty years, the FBI has tried to solve his murder but so far, ain’t nobody seen nothin’.

When I say “historical fiction”, I’m talking about the narrator. The rest is chillingly true. For more info CLICK HERE.

3 November 2023

Published November 1, 2023 by rochellewisoff

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Our Mantra:

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Genre: Anecdote
Word Count: 100

PHOTO PHINISH

Like so much of the population these days, I spend more time on Facebook than I should. To my defense, it’s how I’ve managed to ~~steal~~ find some great pictures to use as Friday Fictioneers prompts.

Fictioneers, David Stewart, Sandra Crook, and Dale Rogerson are talented photographers, so I often peruse their pages. I promise that I will always ask permission. Well, almost always.

Last week Dale posted this beautifully lit photo. Stunning, isn’t it? In fact, I thought it would make a nice painting—if I could pull it off.

This is my story and I’m sticking to it.

14 July 2023

Published July 12, 2023 by rochellewisoff

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Genre: Anecdote
Word Count: 100

PARADISE FOUND

Quintessential party planner Carla missed human contact. Zoom calls didn’t offer quite the same energy. Her California home had become a ghost town.

Searching for something to fill the empty hours of lockdown, she found quilting.

Before she knew it, what began as a hobby turned into a blazing passion. Her family and friends benefitted from her newfound obsession.

Two years later, she realized her dream of visiting Hamilton Missouri, famous home of Missouri Star Quilting Company. Row after row of colorful prints delighted her. Now she could complete her UFO’s—unfinished objects.

She raised her hands. “I’m in heaven!”

Never heard of Hamilton? CLICK HERE

Here’s some pictures of the magnificent quilt Carla gave us for our 50th wedding anniversary.

A few photos of a recent day trip to Hamilton with nieces Carla and Carol.

7 July 2023

Published July 5, 2023 by rochellewisoff

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Genre: Historical Faction
Word Count: 100

WOODSMOKE AT TWILIGHT

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.

I miss those good times.