flash fiction

All posts tagged flash fiction

19 October 2018

Published October 17, 2018 by rochellewisoff

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As always, please be considerate of your fellow Fictioneers and keep your stories to 100 words. (Title is not included in the word count.)  Many thanks. 

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 © Jilly Funell

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Genre: Wish List

Word Count: 100

VANTAGE POINT

She pries my sweaty fingers off the railing, her face lit with a sinister glow. “Come on. Step to it.”

            My life, like a Roadrunner cartoon, flashes before me. Wile E. Coyote, eyes wide with terror, suspends in midair before plummeting 170 meters and landing in a distant poof.

            On the verge of unconsciousness, I croak. “I’m begging, Sarah. Don’t make me do this.”

            “We agreed to go sightseeing whilst you and Dale were here in Portsmouth and the view from Spinnaker Tower is magnificent.”

            Dale shakes her head. “When Rochelle says she’s afraid of heights, she isn’t kidding, eh?”

I hope one day to meet these two in person, but 170 meters in the air won’t be one of my choices of places to see. Sigh. For now I’m happy to meet with Sarah and Dale on Skype. It makes the world seem a bit smaller somehow.  (Yes. I really am afraid of heights.)

 

R IS FOR ROCKET

Published October 14, 2018 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman goes to Roswell, New Mexico, USA.

Your mission is to write up to 150 words inspired by this week’s location. You can use the image supplied or you can visit Roswell yourself via Google Maps and find your own inspiration.

Once your piece is polished, share it with others using the linkup below. Reading and commenting on others’ work is part of the fun.

In April my husband and I visited Roswell so I took the liberty of using my own photo. No matter what your take on aliens,Roswell is a major tourist trap. Kind of fun but next time I want to go to the Grand Canyon. 😉

Thanks to Karen and Josh for facilitating the fun. 

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Genre: Questionable

Word Count: 150

R IS FOR ROCKET

My son tugs at my coat. “Mommy, can I get the green man souvenir?”

            His sister jumps up and down and squeals. “I want the stuffed alien so I could sleep with him. Say ‘yes’ pleeeeeeease, Mommeeee.”

            I shake my head and glare at my husband. “I can’t believe you talked me into coming to this tourist trap? You can’t walk five feet without running into another gift shop. And they all have the same pathetic junk.”

            Taking his wallet from his pocket, he hands the cashier just the right amount for the toys. “Aw, lighten up and have a little fun.” His eyes glow and spin.

            My daughter’s antennae poke out from under her wig. She cuddles her stuffed friend. “I’m sleepy. Can we go back to the hotel?”

            The teenage clerk gasps. “Y-you aren’t from around here, are you?”

            “Next year, Phlox,” I mutter, “we vacation on Gorgon.”

😎

😎

😎

Shmoozing with Aliens in Roswell

12 October 2018

Published October 10, 2018 by rochellewisoff

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As always, please be considerate of your fellow Fictioneers and keep your stories to 100 words. (Title is not included in the word count.)  Many thanks. 

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

get the InLinkz code

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

CRY OF THE HUMAN SPIRIT

Ten-year-old Annie had never ridden on a train. Cousin Anastasia said it would take her and her brother to Springfield.  How odd. Stasia never kissed her before. What did Uncle John mean when he muttered, “Almshouse”?

            “D’ya think Nellie and Mama and Johnny are happy in Heaven, Jimmie?” Annie asked.

            His feverish snoring answered her. She wished she could see the scenery whizzing by.  

            “Not to worry, little one,” said her invisible faerie friend with an Irish brogue. “Someday you’ll do great things.”

            “Me? How? I’m only an ignorant blind girl nobody wants.”

            “Trust me, darlin’ Annie Sullivan. You will.”   

 

Helen Keller with Annie Sullivan Macy (Teacher)

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FLIGHT THROUGH HELL

Published September 30, 2018 by rochellewisoff

Pegman did not get enough of this lovely region of Europe, so this week Pegman heads a little further west to the Douro Valley of Portugal.

This week’s suggestion comes from the talented Lish over at Up From the Ashes. Be sure head over to her blog and enjoy not just this week’s story, but her excellent poetry and other entertaining stories.

Your mission on Pegman, as always, is to write up to 150 words inspired by the prompt. Feel free to use the image supplied above, or visit the Douro Valley yourself via Google maps and find your own street view or photo sphere for inspiration. Or better yet, visit it in person, and take the rest of us Peg-people with you!

Once your story/essay/poem is finished, share it with others using the link up below. Reading and commenting on others’ work is part of the fun!

It has been a busy week and I really didn’t think I’d post a story this time. Once more, the Google trail and my muse conspired against my plans. And just when I think I’ve sussed out all “those stories,” another comes to light. 

Many thanks to Karen and Josh for keeping this challenge afloat.

Synagogue in Douro…yep, I found one.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

 

FLIGHT THROUGH HELL

Mue amigo, my position in the Portuguese consulate gives me the power to grant you and your wife and children visas,” said Aristides de Sousa Mendes, “and safety from the German Madman.”

            Rabbi Chaim Kruger twined the end of his beard around his index finger. “Can you do the same for my brothers and sisters stranded here on the streets of Bordeaux?”

            Tortured by his inability to grant his friend’s request and other personal issues, Sousa Mendes suffered a breakdown. Following a rapid recovery, he threw off the bedclothes and proclaimed, “From now on I’m giving everyone visas.”

            When faced with charges of “disobeying during higher service” by the Portuguese government in 1940 he responded. “I could not differentiate between nationalities as I was obeying the dictates of humanity.”

            In 1966, Sousa Mendes became the first diplomat to be recognized by Israel as one of the Righteous Among the Nations.

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28 September 2018

Published September 26, 2018 by rochellewisoff

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As always, please be considerate of your fellow Fictioneers and keep your stories to 100 words. (Title is not included in the word count.)  Many thanks. 

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 © Yvette Prior

get the InLinkz code

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

THE BUTLER DID IT

Six-year-old Billy earned a bit here and there on the Post-Civil War streets of Richmond dancing for anyone who’d watch.  

            A passerby tossed a penny at the boy’s feet. “Cute little darky.”

            Determined to be more than a ‘pickaninny,’ Billy tapped his way from Vaudeville to the Harlem, and, ultimately, to Broadway. Top hat and tails became his trademarks.

            Hollywood relegated him to servant roles.

            “Everything’s copacetic.” He said as he instructed his diminutive partner. “Take small steps or you know what happens.”

            Slipping her lily-white hand in Bill “Bojangles” Robinson’s, Shirley Temple giggled. “Yeah, I fall on my keester.”

   ****

Here’s a taste of what I’m talking about:

21 September 2018

Published September 19, 2018 by rochellewisoff

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and remember: 

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

get the InLinkz code

Genre: Whimsy

Word Count: 100

BUMBERSHOOT

Dark clouds gathered, threatening to spoil Eric and Alistair’s sightseeing.

After months of emails and planning, the two blog buddies decided to meet in London since Eric had never been away from the States.

“Did you think to bring a brolly?”  

Eric’s brow furrowed. “Why would I bring a trolley?”

Rain pelted Alistair’s forehead and dribbled into his eyes. “Are you deaf? I said ‘brolly.’ Not trolley. You know. A gamp.” He sputtered. “Can’t you Yanks understand plain English?”

Eric shrugged. “It certainly rains a lot over here. As you Brits say, it’s a good job I brought an umbrella.”

 

 

WHO NU?

Published September 16, 2018 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman is on the continent of Africa, in Bamboi, Ghana. There is not a lot of streetview available in this area, but you are free to roam within the borders of Ghana for your inspiration.

Your mission is to write up to 150 words inspired by the prompt. Once your piece is polished, share it with others using the link up below.

Reading and commenting on others’ work is part of the fun! Thanks as always to Karen and Josh for facilitating.

This week, while I stayed in Ghana, I went to a different village. I had to go where the muse took me. A familiar theme for me, but there’s always something new to learn. New people to meet. 

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 150

WHO NU?

When I was a child in an Orthodox home, Shabbos as it was called by my Polish immigrant grandparents, was a non-negotiable. All work ceased on Friday night. This included tearing toilet paper and flipping light switches. We spent every boring Saturday in shul, synagogue. Havdalah, the separation between Shabbos and the rest of the week, between the holy and the mundane, marked the end of my torture.

            As soon as I was old enough, I joined the Peace Corps. I loved the feeling of helping people less fortunate than myself. I was making a difference. As much as I hated to admit it I was homesick. I even missed Shabbos.

            In a village called Sefwi Wiawso, Ghana I met a group of Jews who invited me to spend Shabbat with them. After a Kosher dinner, I joined my new mishpokhah for Havdalah. Fragrant spices and candlelight replaced my loneliness.

*Mishpocha – family

*Nu? -Yiddish for ‘so?’ 

CLICK here to watch Havdalah, Sefwi style. 

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