SEEKING ASYLUM

Published October 28, 2019 by rochellewisoff

In the spirit of Halloween, Pegman ventures to one of the creepiest places in the United States, the condemned Overbrook Lunatic Asylum in Cedar Grove, New Jersey. A quick Google search will reveal to the writer many horrifying facts about this cursed place, some of which may inspire up to 150 original words to be shared with fellow Pegman adventurers. Feel free to stroll around until you find something you like, then post your work to the InLinks site. Have fun, and happy Halloween!

I’m not sure how original my 150 words are. This story is somewhat out of my comfort zone, which I’m told is a good thing for a writer. 😉 I guess you could say it haunted me.

Many thanks to Josh and Karen for this challenge which is all about location, location, location.

CLICK FROG TO JOIN IN THE FUN

Word Count: 150

SEEKING ASYLUM

My brother kicked a pile of chipped paint and crumbled floor. “What a shame they’re tearing down this old loony bin.”

“Yeah.” Light beamed through a broken window, illuminating a broken-down piano. “Guess we’ll have to find somewhere else.”

“They say it’s haunted.”

I startled. The voice belonged to a girl sitting in a lopsided chair. She skimmed her fingertips across the yellowed keys, a faraway look in her sky-blue eyes. “I don’t believe it for a minute, do you?”

I pointed to her old-fashion nurse’s cap and uniform. “Halloween costume?”

“Tis the season.” She giggled. “Wanna hear some Scott Joplin?”

“Maple Leaf Rag” shook the walls.

When she finished I applauded and turned to my brother. “Is she amazing or what?”

He scratched his head and sent me a puzzled look. “Who?”

I whipped back around to see a tattered nurse’s cap on the keyboard. “Umm…nobody. Race ya home.”

25 October 2019

Published October 23, 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 © Jean L. Hays

Hi-ho! Give us a little click.

Genre: Hysterical Fiction

Word Count: 100

PIN MONEY

“Drat. This is my favorite skirt.” Dale noted her unraveled hem. “I left my sewing kit at home.”

Rochelle dug through her purse. “Here you go.” She handed a safety pin to her friend. “Temporary fix.”

“Thanks.”

“Ever wonder who invented the safety pin?”

“No. Do you?”

“Glad you asked.” Rochelle grinned. “William Hunt, a little-known inventor from Martinsburg, New York, created it from 20 centimeters of wire in 1849 so he could pay off a $15 debt. He later sold the patent for a mere $400.”

“Oy!” Dale rolled her eyes. “I just had to ask Encyclopedia Britannica Wisoff-Fields.”

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Note…Where did 7 years go? 7 years ago I was working on my first novel, employed as a cake decorator in a local grocery store and had just begun to write for Friday Fictioneers. I loved the feedback and meeting other writers around the world. Sandra Crook, Russell Gayer and Ted Strutz were among the first to welcome me. I had only been an FF’r for 6 months when Friday Fictioneers creator, Madison Woods decided it was time to move onto other things. I was devastated. Coerced by my husband and two other friends, I begged Madison to let me take the helm. Click Here to check out my first story as facilitator. Thank you to those who participate, reciprocate and have become great friends! ❤

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

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.

11 October 2019

Published October 9, 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 © Ted Strutz

Frog Delightfully rendered by Keith Hillman.

CLICK THE FROG AND HOP ALONG

Genre: Non-Fiction

Word Count: 100

OF BLESSED MEMORY

זיכרונו לברכה

“I wish I’d known you better, Grandpa.”

My grandfather smiles at me from a black and white photo.

The few memories I have are shadowy and vague. The words ‘austere’ and ‘distant’ best describe him. My mother’s father—an enigma.

I regret never asking him about his life as a Jewish boy in Czarist Russia.

“Why did you flee to America?”

“Oy, don’t ask. You should never know such tzuris,” might he have answered? What horrors lurked behind those faded eyes?

I smile back at his monochrome image. “I hope you’re proud of my writing, Grandpa. You are my inspiration.”

Grandpa Sam at Passover

Sam was a tailor.

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

My mother and grandpa with cousin George Weinberg

Sam Weiner with twins Norman and Evalyne, my mom

TODAY I AM A MAN

Published September 25, 2019 by rochellewisoff

PHOTO PROMPT © Na’ama Yehuda

Frog delightfully rendered by Keith Hillman

I hope you’ll forgive me for double dipping today. I couldn’t help myself. 😉

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

TODAY I AM A MAN

“This is stupid.” Twelve-year-old Leon fumed. “Why do I have to do a dumb old Bar Mitzvah?”

“Stupid is it?” Zaydeh’s faded eyes brimmed. “It could save your life.”

Leon braced himself.

“I stuck by Papa in the men’s line until a guard forced me to go with the boys. But I would have none of it.”

“What did you do?”

“I went back to the men.”

“You were only thirteen.”

“I told the guard I am Bar Mitzvah. A man according to Halakha. Papa and I survived the camp in the men’s barracks. The boys? Straight to the ovens.”

20 September 2019

Published September 18, 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 © J Hardy Carroll

For a good time, CLICK!

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

THE SPIRIT SURVIVES

Morning sunlight bathed Gertrude’s violin as she played a mournful melody. Although twelve years had passed, she would never forget the moment at the Quaker school her heavy braids tumbled to the floor, clipped by the teacher’s cruel scissors.

Education meant nothing if she didn’t use it for good. Her people’s spirits called to her, yearning to be free.

She plucked the pins from her hair. It fell around her shoulders like a black cape.

“I will be their voice. I am no longer Gertie.” She raised her fist. “I am Zitkala-Za of the Yankton Sioux, granddaughter of Sitting Bull.”

To know more about this trailblazing woman CLICK HERE

13 September 2019

Published September 11, 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.

Frog delightfully rendered by Keith Hillman

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

MOTHER’S DAY

“Can I wake up?”

“Not now, Evan.” Rosemary yanked off her glasses and glared at her four-year-old son. “Can’t Mommy have five minutes to herself?”

His brown eyes welled. “I need a hug.”

Setting her book aside, she heaved an exasperated sigh. “I need your nap.”

He climbed up on her lap and pressed his soft cheek against hers. In that moment she imagined him as a grown man with a prickly beard. She tightened her arms around him and gave him a loud smooch.

He giggled. “Do you still want me to go away, Mommy?”

“Yes. Go away closer.”

6 September 2019

Published September 4, 2019 by rochellewisoff

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*Note: The photo prompt is meant to be the INSPIRATION for your story not an ILLUSTRATION of it.

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.

Click on the Frog to Join the Fun! Hoppy! Hoppy! Joy! Joy!

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

THE PERFECT IDIOT’S PROFESSION

Twelve-year-old Kathy burst into the bedroom. “Hey, Lazy-Bones, time for breakf—.” She choked on a scream.

Tommy’s body hung by a noose from a rafter.

***

Kathy picked at her eggs. “I miss Tommy.”

Mother ignored the reference to her departed son. “Get ready for school.”

Kathy shuddered. “No!”

“Traumatized.” Father sighed. “I fear Kathy’s destined to become a recluse. I’ll hire a tutor.”

***

Years later, nineteen-year-old Katharine announced to the dismay of her father. “I’m going to be an actress.”

Dr. Hepburn scowled at his headstrong daughter. “You don’t get anywhere in theater unless you sleep with the director.”

Mrs. Hepburn with children. Katharine on the far left.

acting-is-the-perfect-idiots-profession-172094

Kathy and Tom Hepburn

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30 August 2019

Published August 28, 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.

CLICK ON FROGGY AND HOP ABOARD

Genre: Hysterical Faction

Word Count: 100

ERAT CHIROGRAPHUM DECRETI

For Jeffrey, trying to learn Latin was somewhat akin to pushing a cart sideways—uphill. Verb tenses made him tense. Nouns didn’t compute.

He stared at his teacher’s one word comment scrawled across his most recent quiz. “Mr. Bland, what does ‘tennible’ mean?”

Mr. Bland leaned back in his chair. “Let’s explore the Latin roots. ‘To have. To hold.’ Teneo, I have. Tenet, you have…from that root we arrive at ‘tenable—capable of being held.’”

Jeffrey presented his paper. “Why did you write it on my test?”

Taking it from the boy, Mr. Bland frowned. “That’s not tenable. That’s ‘terrible.’”