Realistic Fiction

All posts in the Realistic Fiction category

17 April 2015

Published April 15, 2015 by rochellewisoff

Another Hightway

Friday Fictioneers Farm Path

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The next photo is the PHOTO PROMPT. There’s a lot to see. Does it ignite a story for you. Tell us in a hundred words or less. 

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

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Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

MOTHER GOOSE

            My doctor called it postpartum depression and assured me it was normal, but I knew better. I resented my son Daniel for what he was not. I wanted sugar and spice. Instead I got snips and snails.     

            One night, after putting the baby to bed, I turned on the television and came across a promotion for flame retardant pajamas. Graphic images of once handsome children, burned and scarred beyond recognition, seared through me.

            “What’s wrong with me?” I bolted from the sofa to the nursery, gathered Daniel into my arms, inhaled his sweetness and whispered, “I love puppy dog tails.”

 

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

3 April 2015

Published April 1, 2015 by rochellewisoff

Flowers from the Hill Thoreau

Erie Canal

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The following photo is the PHOTO PROMPT and comes from Lauren Moscato by way of Amy Reese. What does it say to you? Watch your step and tell us a story in one hundred words or less.  

Lauren Moscato

PHOTO PROMPT © Lauren Moscato

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Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

MOVING UP

Bevy was a splash of color on God’s palette. When it came to interior design and giving parties, she was an artist without equal.

            Every Monday we met for dinner with Bevy and George. On one such night we compared house-hunting woes.  

            “You should see the monstrosity George liked,” she said with a pained grimace. “Metal walls and a window air conditioner in every room.”

            “Hey,” he said with a shrug, “it’s big enough for entertaining.”

            A week later we learned she’d been keeping a secret.

            Today heaven’s awash with color and celebration while my world’s become a dingier place.

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20 March 2015

Published March 18, 2015 by rochellewisoff

Snorkeling in St. Thomas

Undersea St. Thomas 4 Meme

FF copyright banner finalThe following photo is the PHOTO PROMPT. What story does it tell you? Share it in one hundred words or less.

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Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 99

GULF

On fragrant spring afternoons, on the mossy stone patio in Arlene’s backyard, we shared sandwiches, secrets and giggles as only little girls can. In summer we waded in the creek that ran behind her house and tried to catch tadpoles that tickled our bare toes.

When we entered junior high, Arlene withdrew and when I tried to talk to her about it, she turned away as if I no longer existed. I never knew why or whether I had done something dreadful to offend her. 

The questions, answered by silence, scarred my heart. Fifty years later, the ache remains.  

***

Rochelle with Ami 1961

“It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.” –E. E. Cummings

There’s no time like the present to get over the past and  get on with the future.  

good-news-300x200CLICK HERE

6 March 2015

Published March 4, 2015 by rochellewisoff

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Blue Ceiling FF

 

***When posting your URL, please make sure it’s specific to your story and not just your blog. It’s frustrating to have to scroll down past several articles to get to your Friday Fictioneers post for the week.***

Thank you.

 

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The following picture is the PHOTO PROMPT.  Does it plant a story in your mind? Share it in a hundred words or less.  

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

PHOTO PROMPT - © Erin Leary

PHOTO PROMPT – © Erin Leary

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Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

ESCAPE

                “Sabira! Where are you, you worthless bitch?” yelled her husband, Davlet.  

            From the barn rafters she watched him through a chink in the wall and prayed. “Don’t let him find me.”

                Two weeks ago she’d been an ambitious university student until four men, including Davlet, jumped out of a car and forced her into it.

             “Kyrgyz tradition,” said her mother when Sabira called her for help. “You’ll learn to be a good wife as grandmother and I did.”

            “New tradition,” whispered Sabira as she tightened a noose she’d fashioned from barbed wire around her neck and jumped off the ledge.  

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.Bride Knapping

Learn More

 

 

30 January 2015

Published January 28, 2015 by rochellewisoff

The disc and the dragonfly

Undersea St. Thomas 4 Meme

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Below is the PHOTO PROMPT. Does it spark an idea for you? Step outside the fuse box and switch on a story. 

My story will follow the prompt and the blue inLinkz frog. I appreciate honest feedback for it’s how we grow as writers. 

PHOTO PROMPT - Copyright Ted Strutz

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright Ted Strutz

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Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

TIP OF THE SPEAR

            “Eddie, why did you do that?”

            “I dunno,” he mumbled.

            Eddie hung his head and stared at Mom’s shattered porcelain teapot. It never occurred to him when he threw his ball at the cat that he’d miss.

            “Special Ed.” His sister Karen stuck out her tongue and crossed her eyes. “Retard.”

            “Impulsive and disruptive,” his second grade teacher told Mom the day he stuck a piece of foil in the electrical outlet. “He’ll never amount to much.”

 

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            “Why did Eddie do that?” Karen whispered.

            “Impulsive and fearless.” The tall Marine handed her a folded American flag. “A true hero.”

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American Hero.

.folded flag

28 November 2014

Published November 26, 2014 by rochellewisoff

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Prom Night 1971 Enlargement

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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

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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Hitler's Youth

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

 

 

31 October 2014

Published October 29, 2014 by rochellewisoff

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Blue Ceiling FF

MAKE. EVERY.WORD. COUNT.

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Below is the PHOTO PROMPT. Sit a while and study it. Does it tell you a story? Share it in 100 words or less.

There is only one PROMPT.  Any sketches or photos following my story are meant to be illustrations for it. 

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Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 98

ROLE REVERSAL

            “Your stepfather’s in this chair,” says Dr. Rice. “Talk to him.” 

            “I can’t. It’s empty. He croaked twenty years ago.” 

            “Try.” 

            I sit in the chair opposite my ‘stepfather.’ “You filthy pig.” 

            “Good start.” 

            “I’m glad you’re dead…Daddy.”  

           In that moment I’m thirteen. Just as he’s done since I was seven, he slips into my bed. I wrestle from his grasp. 

            “How did he die, Natalie?” asks Dr. Rice. 

            “I don’t remember.” 

            “Yes, you do.” 

            “I…” My hands sweat and shake. “I used his gun.” 

            “Tell me.” 

            “I’d do it again. He stole my life. I took his.” 

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ORIGINAL ARTWORK - copyright-Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

Not the Photo Prompt. ORIGINAL ARTWORK – copyright-Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

Keep it Legal

 

24 October 2014

Published October 22, 2014 by rochellewisoff

Flowers from the Hill Thoreau

Erie Canal

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The next photo is this week’s PROMPT. What kind of a story does it tell you? Tell the rest of us in a hundred words or less. 

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

😀 This week marks my second anniversary as your fearful leader. My first story as facilitator can be found here. Thanks to all who write, submit photos and support me week after week. I’m looking forward to a third great year.  😀

Shalom,

Rochelle

 *Note: There is only ONE PHOTO PROMPT.  Any photos or artwork following my story are meant to go with my story. Period!

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Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

THE OCEAN OF THE LORD

            A winter wind blew across the pond. Trina huddled close to Brian on the bridge as a flock of ducks fought for the breadcrumbs he threw.

            “Remember our wedding?” he asked. “Flowers in your hair. This same park.”

            “Forty-five years ago.” She shivered. “In June.”

            “I read where a pair of swans in England divorced.”

            “I thought they mated for life. What happened?”

            “Failure to breed.”

            “Are you saying you want a divorce because we couldn’t…?” She held her breath.

            He smiled and took her hand. “Let’s go home, my beautiful swan…”

            With love and affection, Trina whispered, “…and practice.”

 

Framed Swans

ORIGINAL ARTWORK. Copyright- Rochelle Wisoff-Fileds. Use by express permission only. Thank you.

17 October 2014

Published October 15, 2014 by rochellewisoff

Snorkeling in St. Thomas

Undersea St. Thomas 4 Meme

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The next photo is the prompt. There’s much to look at. What do you see? Tell me in a hundred words or less. Then click the blue froggy guy after the prompt and link your story URL.

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Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 99

HIBAKUSHA

            When I was five my father opened our home to his widowed aunt.    

            “Why can’t Obasan live with her own children?” I whined and stamped my foot.

            “Pikadon took them,” said Chichi. “We are her children now.”  

            “But she scares me.”

            I soon saw past Obasan’s scarred face. Her stories delighted me. She taught me how to construct flapping birds and intricate shapes from colored paper.

            One night she lay down to sleep and returned to the source.

            Every year at O-Bon I honor her with mukae-bi, dance and sake.

            Her elegant spirit surrounds me like a thousand winds.

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Spring_Kusudama_by_lonely__soldier

Bon-Odori-Dance-2013

Pikadon.

O-Bon

19 September 2014

Published September 17, 2014 by rochellewisoff

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Blue Ceiling FF

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The following photo is the PHOTO PROMPT.  Where does it take you? Tell me your story. 😉

NOTE: All are welcome to participate but please tell the story on your blog page not in my comment section.

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Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

BY WAY OF JERICHO

            “They say the minerals are curative.” My sister pointed to a picture of the Dead Sea. “Come with me.”

            “You want salt?” I said. “I’ll buy you a box of Morton’s.”

            “You know what I mean.”

            “I’d rather visit Australia.”

            “Be a pal. Think about it.”

___________

            “I knew it wasn’t a cure,” my sister whispered from her hospice bed. “I just wanted to visit the Holy Land before I died.”  

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            The water’s buoyancy made it fun for us to swim but I’ll always prefer the Hebrew name Yam HaMelach, Sea of Salt, to Dead Sea.

             I swim with her still.

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“We have returned to the cisterns
To the market and to the market-place
A ram’s horn calls out on the Temple Mount
In the Old City.

And in the caves in the mountain
Thousands of suns shine –
We will once again descend to the Dead Sea
By way of Jericho! “

-from the song “Jerusalem of Gold.” 

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