flash fiction

All posts tagged flash fiction

15 April 2021

Published April 14, 2021 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 © Anne Higa  

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AGENT 3844

Heart pounding, Virginia Hall caught her breath and massaged her aching hip. “That was a close call. Cuthbert, you’re always causing trouble.”

“You’ve named your wooden leg?” Virginia’s fellow agent, Armand, found a table in a darkened tavern. “Here. Rest fast.”

She forced a smile. “I was sure the Gestapo recognized me from the poster.”

“The artist certainly captured your likeness. But your disguise is good.”

“Perhaps not good enough.”

The tavern keeper brought two glasses of wine.

“It is my honor to serve with you.” Armand raised his glass. “To the lady who limps. Most dangerous of Allied spies.”

 

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9 April 2021

Published April 7, 2021 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Brenda Cox

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

GREASEPAINT AND KIMCHEE

“Hey kid.”

Philip stood beside his car, waiting for his sweetheart Anna May Wong. He startled to see movie idol Douglas Fairbanks scrutinizing him. “Me?”

“Yeah, you. You have presence.”

The actor insisted the boy make a screen test.

Still in makeup, heart racing, Philip took a contract home. Instead of the accolades he hoped for, his mother flew into a rage.

She tore the papers to shreds. “No son of mine is getting mixed up with those awful people.”

Two-hundred movies and television shows later, Korean-American actor Philip Ahn laughed. “I’ll never forget. She grounded me for three days.”

***

Although you might not be familiar with his name, I’ll bet many of you remember his face. 

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2 April 2021

Published March 31, 2021 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 © Jennifer Pendergast  

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Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 100

ICING FOR JOY

My decorating supervisor, Mack had an undeniable presence. Although I’ve no photo of him, I have an image in my mind that will never fade. Bushy white moustache and flushed cheeks under a flat cap.

He had been creating gorgeous cakes since I was in diapers. Flowers crafted from extra-stiff icing were his specialty. Roses. Daisies. Pansies. Chrysanthemums.

Eyes twinkling, he called me “Whats-Your-Name.”

A better mentor I couldn’t have asked for—never stingy with his tricks of the trade. I’ll always cherish the greatest compliment he ever gave me. “You can do anything I can, and you know it.”

****

Mack also told me I had a bright future as a cake decorator. I never told him that wasn’t exactly the future I was hoping for. 😉 From him that was huge. He’s gone now. I really wish I’d taken a picture or two of him.

A few of my favorite cakes through the years. 

26 March 2021

Published March 24, 2021 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 © Dale Rogerson

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

BRINGER OF LIGHT

At bedtime Blume Mabovitch brushed 10-year-old Goldie’s thick, dark curls. “How was school today?”

“Fun. Nothing like Kiev. My teacher says I’m klug—smart.”

Gut. Into bed.” Blume tucked the covers around Goldie’s neck. “When the time comes, you’ll be a balabusta, a good American wife.”

Goldie watched snowflakes flutter past her window, glittering in the streetlight. She shivered and whispered to herself. “Balabustah? Feh! Someday I shall do great things for our Jewish people.”

***

Goldie’s fire and determination guided her long productive life. As Golda Meir she earned Israel’s love as a champion who helped turn dreams into reality.

*In 1956 when Golda Myerson became Foreign Minister, Prime Minister Ben Gurion urged her to Hebraicize her name. Meir means bringer of light. 

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And just because…

Weekend Writing Prompt – Orbit

Published March 21, 2021 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.

This prompt didn’t send me into orbit exactly. 😉 Nor does my story defy gravity. Apologies to my favorite Canuck. 

“Orbitz.” Dale grimaced.  “The beverage with balls. WTF. You paid $20.00 on Ebay?”

“Retro novelty.” Rochelle took a sip and gagged. “I guess not everything Canadian is as wonderful as peanut butter and Captain Kirk. No wonder this dreck didn’t last a year.”

“It’s dead, Jim. Have a Merlot.”

“L’chaim.”

 

19 March 2021

Published March 17, 2021 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 © Liz Young

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Genre: Humour

Word Count: 100

NOT BY BREAD ALONE

Dale shielded her eyes. “Let’s sit here under this magnificent shade tree.”  

As Russell sank down in the grass, Liza-Jane snatched his sandwich. “Hey!” He scowled the dog.

“I brought an extra, just in case.” Rochelle handed it to him. “Hope you don’t mind peanut butter on wholegrain, gluten-free bread.”

Liza-Jane sniffed at it and whimpered. Russell grimaced. “Thanks.”

Rochelle bit into her sandwich. “Mmm. Peanut Butter. George Washington Carver’s greatest gift to mankind.

“For your information, Ms. History-Buff.” Dale munched on her PB&J on a croissant. “Peanut butter was first patented by Canadian pharmacist Marcellus Gilmore Edson in 1884.

***

Click here for Information that won’t stick to the roof of your mouth. 

 

12 March 2021

Published March 10, 2021 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.

A note of thanks to those who sent photos. The response to my plea was overwhelming! I’m always open to quirky or intriguing shots. Send them to runtshell@gmail.com. 😉 

PHOTO PROMPT © CEAyr

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

THE GREATEST GENERATION

Great-Grandpa Harry’s war stories made wonderful essays for my seventh-grade history class.  

“I never seen anything like it.” His faded blue eyes brimmed. “Charles Jackson French. The ‘human tugboat’. Ever hear of him?”  

“No, Grandpa.”   

“A-course not. So Imma gonna tell you.”

I poised my pencil.

 “After the Japs sank our ship, a few of us wounded escaped on a big’ol life raft. Charlie tied the tow rope around hisself. Eight hours o’dodging sharks and bullets, he swam us to safety. Never received the full honors due him.”

“Why?”

Great-Grandpa fisted his gnarled hand.

“Worst reason ever, son. Skin color.”

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5 March 2021

Published March 3, 2021 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 © Roger Bultot

Genre: Histrionic Friction

Word Count: 100

UN-A-MUSED

A blank computer screen mocks me. I type, “It was a dark and stormy night.” I backspace over it. Frustration reigns supreme. “He was a stormy, dark knight.”

Screw it.

Backspace.

My mind’s as gray as the sky outside. Whoever heard of a sky inside?

Oy.

Maybe it’s all the binge watching on Netflix that has my empty mind swimming in circles.

That’s it! I’ll write about swimming. “Sloshing, stroking, flipping. Blissfully skimming.”

Backspace.

How many odes have I written to my inner mermaid?

“Dear Muse, where are you?”

The words flash across the monitor.

“Moved. Left no forwarding address.”

26 February 2021

Published February 24, 2021 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.

CALLING MY CAMERA HAPPY FICTIONEERS!!!

PROMPT PHOTOS NEEDED! SOMETHING INTERESTING! SOMETHING INTRIGUING! MY ONLY REQUEST IS THAT YOU DON’T SEND PICTURES OF ANIMALS OR STATUES. ONTO THE PHOTO BELOW. THANK YOU, DALE!

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

FIRE AND ICE

“Corrie, we don’t have time to cry.” Her father’s eyes blazed. “Give thanks for our lives and pray for those who did this.”

Flames engulfed the only home the fifteen-year-old had ever known. How could she pray for evil people who hated them for the color of their skin?

Hours before they had enjoyed Thanksgiving dinner accompanied by laughter and music.  

Heart racing, she made a vow never to allow the ugliness to remain in the shadows.

Twenty-six years later, Coretta Scott King refused to bathe in her grief, saying, “Hate injures the hater more than it injures the hated.”

 

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19 February 2021

Published February 17, 2021 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 © Ted Strutz

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

NO MAIL, LOW MORALE

           “I have a dream.” Dr. King’s words gave Millie hope for an end to her beloved country’s racial divide as she returned home from the march in Washington.

            Before she could open her door, someone tapped her shoulder. She whipped around to be caught in the blue-eyed gaze of a Raleigh policeman.

            “Mrs. Veasey, were you in the 6888 Postal Directory Battalion during WWII?”

            “And proud of it.” She stiffened. “We were the first black, female division in the US Army.”  

            “I was PFC Nelson…Belgium. No mail for months, until—” He saluted. “Thank you for your service, Ma’am.”

***

CLICK for more info about Mrs. Veasey and the Six-Triple-Eight

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