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.
Today, as this week’s Friday Fictioneers airs, it’s June 19th. In the States it’s Juneteenth, a Federal Holiday to celebrate and commemorate the ending of slavery in America. I hope my piece doesn’t sound defensive, although at the time, I was hurt by my friend’s barbs.
Genre: Memoir Word Count: 100
IN BLACK AND WHITE
A while back, a fellow artist and I met for coffee. In the midst of the conversation, I said something my African American friend perceived as racist.
He frowned saying, “You white people say you don’t see color when you really do.”
His comments hurt, sending me on a soul-searching expedition.
He was partly correct in his assessment. The fact is, I do see a person’s skin color, as well as eye color and physique. I am a visual artist, after all. What I wanted to tell him is thatI appreciate the brilliant rainbow the Ultimate Artist has created.
Here I am with some delightful friends in Israel. I’m glad they didn’t have a problem with short people. 😉
If only we could see how alike we all are.
****
And now for some shameless publicity 😉 This coming Sunday is my official Book Launch.
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.
Mama’s words echoed in Sister Benedicta’s memory. “Edith, how can your turn your back on your people this way? To be baptized is an outrage! You are a Jew.”
“Our Lord Jesus himself was a Jew.” Edith had calmly replied. “I am still a Jew.
The Nazis agreed and forced her to pin a yellow star to her habit.
It boggled her mind that anyone could be so cruel.
The gas chambers of Auschwitz loomed before her. Her sister Rosa wept at her side.
Putting an arm around her shoulder, Sister Benedicta whispered, “Come, we are going for our people.”
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.
This week has been a busy one which didn’t leave much headspace for writing even one hundred words. So I’m sharing a pared down excert from my WIP “LAST DANCE WITH ANNIE”. I’m in the midst of what we’re hoping is the final round of line edits. My use of the prompt is quite loose. 😉
Genre: Realistic Fiction Word Count: 100
LOVE AND WAR
Tony studied his friend CPO Marco Sanchez. Marco’s golden-haired fiancée sent him a ‘Dear John’ letter while he dodged VC sniper fire in Vietnam as a medical corpsman. When he came back to the states in 1970, he met and married Carla who succumbed to cancer ten years later, leaving Marco to raise three sons.
“How do you do it?”
“Sense of humor.” Marco shrugged. “Carlita always told me if we divorced, she’d make sure I got custody. Said she’d hire ‘lack-of-character’ witnesses. Prove she was an unfit mother. Guess she got the last laugh.” He grinned. “Lunch at Ruby’s?”
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.
With balletic grace and powerful style, thirty-one-year-old Agnes Keleti turned back flips and pirouetted across the mat. The crowd cheered.
“This is for you, Dad,” she whispered under her breath as she raised her arms in victory. “This is what we trained for.”
****
He would’ve been so proud to see his daughter win the gold at the 1952 Olympics and again in 1956. The vicious shark had failed to devour her. She’d survived—not only survived, but prevailed.
“These hundred years feel to me like sixty,” she told reporters on her birthday. “Health is of the essence. I love life.”
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.
Remember renting VHS movies in the 1980’s? We’d make a big bowl of popcorn, put the cassette in the VCR and settle back for cheap entertainment on the small screen.
One Sunday, my husband, a huge John Wayne fan picked up a copy of “The Conqueror” starring his hero as Genghis Khan, infamous Mongol conqueror.
As the Duke uttered his lines, he sounded more like a Texas cowboy. “Your treacherous head is not safe on your shoulders—(Pilgrim).”
“Are you into this?” asked Jan, remote in hand.
“Are you?”
I’ll never know how the movie ended… Nor do I care.
***
Here’s the trailer for this miscast disaster:
To read more about this epic failure of a movie and the deadly consequences of shooting location CLICK HERE
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.
Anyone remember playing solitaire with real cards you held in your hand? Those who don’t will probably never know the “joy” of playing 52 Card Pickup. 😉 I still remember the colorful backs of my parents’ plastic coated playing cards. I learned early how to shuffle them and became adept at making a tunnel. A playing card turnedyour plain old bicycle into a motorcycle like magic.All it took was a clothespin to clip the cards to your wheel spokes.
I could go on about the joys of playing cards. Instead I’ll leave you to your own memories and musings and present my story for the week.
Genre: Fiction-ish Word Count: 100
SOLITAIRE
“Two of hearts joins the ace of hearts.” Ten-year-old Elise arranged the four suits in neat rows on her beach towel. “King of clubs marries his queen.”
Elise’s mom, who worked full time, had found the perfect summer babysitter when she joined the pool. Leave childcare to the lifeguards.
Hot sun beat down on Elise’s bare back. She stacked and shuffled the cards. “I win,” she said to no one. “Time for a swim.”
Diving under the waves she imagined herself to be a mermaid with iridescent fins. The water caressed her. Immersed in her chlorinated haven, who needed playmates?
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.
After fifty-five years Alice still missed Johnny who’d been drafted and died in Vietnam. Their daughter Sunshine, a successful lawyer in Manhattan had little time for Alice.
One day, Alice texted Sunshine. “Leaving for Australia. Going to open a restaurant.”
“Mom, are you smoking weed again?”
***
Pushing a lock of long white hair from her forehead, Alice flipped veggie burgers on the grill in her thriving café. She gazed at the mountains kissing the cerulean sky outside the window. Her town—peaceful Alice Springs—three hours or less from anywhere in Australia and thousands of miles from the Divided States.
Alice Springs, Australia
And if you have 19 minutes to spare CLICK HERE to enjoy Alice’s Restaurant.
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.
This week I did something I rarely do. Due to the concern many readers had for poor jilted James, I decided to share his side of the story. 😉 If you haven’t read my story from last week or just want a refresher: CLICK HERE.
Genre: Hysterical Fiction Word Count: 100
HAPPILY EVER AFTER PART II
James gazed at Hattie’s note. His fiancé was on her honeymoon with David?
Perhaps he should’ve seen it coming. Hattie and his best man had been good friends since childhood.
Now what?
The caterers had been paid. Flowers and streamers festooned the reception hall where an elegant three-tiered cake awaited the happy bride and groom.
Twirling Hattie’s engagement ring around his left pinkie finger, he typed in a number on his phone with his right index finger.
“James!” said a woman’s voice. “I didn’t expect to hear from you.”
“Hi Kate. As it turns out I’m free tonight after all.”
The beauty of this challenge is making friends. And friends being what they are, like to poke fun at each other. At least that’s my thoughts on it. Following a post from a fellow Friday Fictioneer last week I couldn’t help myself.
Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple 