Realistic Fiction

All posts in the Realistic Fiction category

Weekend Writing Prompt – Hinterland

Published July 18, 2020 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.

I’ve no doubt my friends who are writers will relate. 

FAR AND AWAY

Her hair gleamed in the soft candlelight. Desire flooded him. No longer could he—

“Yoo-hoo, Mom.”

I flinch and stare at him. “What?”

He peers at me over his beer. “You didn’t hear a word I said.”

“What did you say?” I cut into my steak. “Mm. Underdone to perfection. I’m sorry, I had something on my mind.

My son, the professional wordsmith, winks. “You have the writer’s look.”

“What’s that?”

“Your body’s here, but your mind is far away in the hinterlands of your imagination.”

Busted.

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

19 June 2020

Published June 17, 2020 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

CLICK!

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

A STROLL ALONG THE BEACH

My seventy-four-years-young grandmother walks beside me with a slight limp.

“Did you have an accident when you were a girl, Nan?”

“Polio.”

“Why aren’t your legs deformed like the kids in those old films?”  

 “I was only five at the time.” Nan’s eyes mist. “My mother defied our doctor, who wanted to shackle me with steel braces, and took me to one of Sister Kenny’s treatment centers. There they wrapped my legs in hot wool and forced me to exercise.”

“Didn’t that hurt?”

“Like hell.” She grins and skips toward the ocean. “Last one in the water’s a rotten egg.”

 

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8 May 2020

Published May 6, 2020 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

GO AHEAD…CLICK ME!           

The following story is a work of fiction. Sadly, it’s based on fact for too many people. 

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

DRIVING THE BUS

Amy brushed, flossed and swished Listerine around her mouth. Spitting it out, she watched the blue liquid swirl down the drain. She raised her head, stared at her reflection, baring her teeth. “Minty fresh. I really gotta stop this ralphing crap.”

            She took a mental inventory of everything she’d eaten. Basically, she cleaned out the fridge. Twinkies, two toaster waffles, a banana, a cheese ball, three hardboiled eggs and so on.   

            She’d gotten the idea of taking Ipecac from a recovering bulimic’s book, meant to be a testimony of her victory over her eating disorder.

            “Handy little ‘how-to’ manual, eh?”

*Glossary:

Ralph is slang for vomit. Driving he Bus is slang for the same. 

Ipecac is a substance used to induce vomiting. Parents of small children keep it in the medicine cabinet in case of accidental poisoning. I had to use it once when my son was two.

Listerine, for those unfamiliar, is a brand of mouthwash popular in the States.

                           

SILENCE OF THE LAMBS

Published March 9, 2020 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman hitches up his camel for a trip deep into the Saudi Arabian desert, an oasis known as Wadi ad-Dawasir. There is no street view, but more than a few photospheres. Feel free to wander until you find something that appeals to you, then write up to 150 words about it. Sharing, reading, and commenting is the meat of a photo prompt, so please participate. If you enjoy yourself, please encourage others to join this community.

Thanks for playing, and do your best! Thanks to Josh for hosting.

To read other stories, click here.

Two weeks in a row for me. 😉 I debated over this one. But being one day after International Women’s Day, it seems right to speak out for women who have no voice. 

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 150

SILENCE OF THE LAMBS

We met in Toronto Pearson airport, where Clemira sought asylum. Her dark eyes broke my heart. She grasped my hands in both of hers. “Thank you for your help.”

Two years before I myself fled Saudi Arabia after my father killed my sister for going out in public without her Hajib. He poured acid on her while she slept. In my dreams I still hear her screams.

“I will do whatever I can.” I kissed Clemira’s scarred cheek. “How did you manage to escape?”

“The new law enabling women to drive saved me.” The plucky seventeen-year-old mother of three squared her shoulders. “My passport is up to date from our vacation. My brother—a rare sympathetic man—bought my ticket. I packed my things while Akbar slept. Then I took the car and drove to the airport.”

“Aren’t you worried about your children?”

“Akbar won’t beat them. They are boys.”

8 November 2019

Published November 6, 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 © Ronda Del Boccio

I’m not blue but I will be if you don’t click me to join the fun. 😉 

Genre: Histrionic Fiction

Word Count: 100

A WRINKLE IN TIME

Elise wound a chestnut curl around her index finger and frowned. “Time for a little Miss Clairol.” Twisting her lips into a wry grin, she tilted her head. “Maybe I’ll just dye it purple.”

After she brushed her teeth, she cleansed her face and applied her foundation repeating the Mary Kay mantra she had learned years ago, “When you pat you place, when you rub you remove.”

The morning ritual continued with eye-shadow and mascara.

She gave her lips a coat of color and studied her reflection over the sink. “How the hell did my mother get in my mirror?”

*

*

*

My mother didn’t really look like this. 😉

WEEKEND WRITING PROMPT – INEFFABLE

Published November 3, 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.

PORTAL

“This photo’s always fascinated me.” I turn over the cardboard and study the foreign print. “Wish I could read it.”

Oxana stares at it. “It’s Russian. Very old.”

I flip it back over and gaze at the girl with ineffable awe, wishing I could read her thoughts. “It’s my grandmother Nettie Weinberg and her mother Edith. Great-grandma looks like she walked right out of ‘Fiddler on the Roof’, doesn’t she?”

 

 

 

18 October 2019

Published October 16, 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 © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

POKE THE FROG TO JOIN 

Pink Froggie

Thanks to Keith Hillman for his Froggie adaptations.

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

STATE OF ISRAEL

A cool breeze ruffled Shlomit’s hair. How different from her previous life when head-coverings symbolized her devotion to Adoshem and Avi.  

            Avi Weinstein, zealous for Torah. His parents’ only son. The perfect husband.  

            After her seventh miscarriage, he beat her.  

            Even now her footsteps pounded out his accusations along the cobblestone Jerusalem street. “Murderer! Mother of death.”  

            Three years ago Avi died, leaving no heirs.

            Shlomit fled the Hasidim and their restricting laws.  

            Beside her Elan squeezed her hand. No side-curls. Colorful clothes. Her devoted Jewish husband.

            Avi’s hateful words faded. Elan patted her swollen tummy. “Beautiful mother of life.”

***

While I didn’t see the women flashing their the Haredim, I did witness the demonstration of these men and boys storming the streets of Jerusalem yelling, “Shabbos!” firsthand.

And here’s the link to another video about the state of Israel. It’s kind of long so it’s up to you to watch or not watch. 😉 Like anyone else, I have my opinions but I’ll not share them here. I do wish we could all celebrate each other’s differences.

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INSTINCT

Published October 13, 2019 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman takes us to the Arlington National Cemetery in Washington DC, USA.

Your mission is to write up to 150 words inspired by the prompt. Feel free to use the location supplied above, our take your own tour of Washington D.C. via Google maps and find a view that inspires you.

You may write poetry, prose, essay, limerick, sonnet, or fiction of any flavor. Once your piece is polished, share it with others at the linkup below. Reading and commenting is part of the fun.

Thanks to Karen and Josh for facilitating this unique challenge. To join click the frog.

image-arlington_national_cemetery_public_domain-10944

This week I revisited and fleshed out a story I posted in Friday Fictioneers four years ago. 

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 150

INSTINCT

            Six years my senior, my gentle brother was my hero. He was the valedictorian of his graduating class. Awarded a scholarship to Harvard, he owned the future.

            I had just turned twelve when his draft notice came. Vietnam consumed every newscast. Mom was inconsolable.

            The day he left to go overseas I clung to him and sobbed. “I’ll never see you again.”

            “Duty calls, Sis.” He pinched my cheek and kissed my nose. “I’ll be back. You’ll see.”

            “Promise?”

            “Promise.”

***

            Tonight we celebrate his sixty-fifth birthday. His hands tremble as he cuts the cake. The knife falls from his fingers and tears stream down his stubbled cheeks.

            “I cut off their ears and hung them from a chain on my belt loop.” He swallows a pill with a swig of beer. “Thirty-six kills. God, I miss it.”

            My brother did come back from Vietnam but he never returned.    

   

 

21 December 2018

Published December 19, 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. 

Copyright – Adam Ickes

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Another week of reruns. This is a story I posted 5 years ago 13 December 2013 Click the link to see who was with us then. A few of you may have written a story for this prompt. If so, feel free to post your own rerun. 

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

UNEXPECTED GIFT, UNEXPECTED TIME

            Charli’s hiking boots are caked with dried mud that defies my cleaning efforts.

            From her first cry, I dreamed of dressing my firstborn in pink pinafores with ruffled lace. But, before she turned two, Charli made it clear she detested pink.

            Since then, I’ve given birth to another tomboy and a son who happens to love pink. Go figure.

            After the accident on her thirteenth birthday, the boots were the only part of Charli I didn’t sell, toss or donate.

            I listen for the doorbell. In a moment I’ll meet the girl to whom I gave my daughter’s untamed heart.

9 November 2018

Published November 7, 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.S. Brand

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Genre: Hysterical Faction

Word Count: 100

ILLEGITIMI NON CARBORUNDUM*

At the beginning of my writing career, one of my mentors warned me. “The greatest thing an author can develop, besides a good story, is a thick skin.”

            The reviews of my novels on Amazon have been mostly favorable—until yesterday.  

            “Amateurish,” the reviewer spewed. “Clunky. No story arc. The characters are caricatures.”

            Paralyzed by the scathing words, I doubted everything I ever wrote.

            “Pffft,” said my friend. “Every author’s received bad reviews and haters are gonna hate. You can’t take it personally.”

            This morning I found two 5-Star reviews. Did my writing change? Guess I won’t quit just yet.

 

*Don’t let the bastards grind you down. 

Here’s a page from my latest book A STONE FOR THE JOURNEY- the companion to Havah’s Trilogy

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