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.

14 September 2018

Published September 12, 2018 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

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Genre: Some might find it humorous

Word Count: 100

This is based on fact. I recently was called for jury duty. A day spent waiting…and reading. I think I can blame Russell for the inspiration. When I wasn’t sketching or snoozing, I was reading my signed copy of “The Perils of Heavy Thinking.” That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

MEMBER OF THE BORED

My day in court arrives. I spend hours in a sterile waiting room with 74 other potential jurors before moving to the courtroom. To pass the time I sketch the man in front of me.

Who among us will be chosen to spend the next five days deliberating? Not I.

So…

Will it be the blonde with a rock on her finger the size of Texas? Or maybe the brunette whose attributes are barely contained will catch the judge’s eye. Or what about the dainty young thing in striped hoodie and floral pajama pants?

The possibilities fire this writer’s imagination.

***

Not Boring

A STONE FOR THE JOURNEY

The coffee table companion to Havah’s Trilogy

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or HERE

COLLATERAL ORANGE DAMAGE

Published September 9, 2018 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman takes us to Hanoi, Vietnam. Your mission is to write up to 150 words inspired by the location. Feel free to use the image supplied with the prompt or take your own tour of Hanoi. You’ll find photosheres and a limited amount of street view in Hanoi.

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.

I hated to miss another week so I hope no one minds that I’m sharing something of a rerun. Not enough brain cells this morning to come up with something new. 😉 Thanks to Karen and Josh for keeping Pegman going.

This isn’t a fun piece by any stretch. Some may remember the shorter version I posted in Friday Fictioneers in February of 2016. Once more I dedicate this story to my brothers in law who both served in Vietnam and suffer the effects of Agent Orange.

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

COLLATERAL ORANGE DAMAGE

(Expanded)

“Farewell, Rob” was all I could muster as I laid my battered dog tags on his grave.

We’d been through a lot together, but in the end it wasn’t a Viet Cong bullet, but prostate cancer that got him. Doc says I’m next on the hit parade.

Please try to understand. We were soldiers following orders.

“A little defoliating agent to clear the jungle and expose the enemy.” Our commanding officers assured us. “Nothing that will harm a human.”

I’d read of the far reaching effects and wanted to check it out for myself. I booked a flight and a room in beautiful downtown Hanoi.

Last night, after taking in the sights, I visited a children’s hospital in Ho Chi Minh City. There the fruits of our labors languish with twisted or missing limbs and eyes that bulge from enlarged skulls.

We have exposed the enemy, and he is us.

Click Here for a Disturbing Illustration

7 September 2018

Published September 5, 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 © Gah Learner

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

BEAUTIFUL DREAMER

Minnie stared out her window at the rising moon and yawned.

“Girl,” said Mama Mary, Minnie’s great-grandmother. “You ain’t gonna learn to read stayin’ up all night.”

“I hate school. The kids call me Minnie Crazy.”

“Tell me what’s in them visions, child?”

“I see my great-great-grandma being brung here on a slave ship. I see elephants and birds and angels.”

Minnie Evans’ visions continued to haunt her. One day, paintbrush or crayon in hand, she recreated her dreams.

Her husband Julian frowned. “Pictures don’t put food on the table.”

Minnie trembled. “God told me I havta paint or die.”

*

CLICK HERE for more

Heeding the Call by Minnie Evans

In her own words:

BIRTHRIGHT

Published August 26, 2018 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman is in Resolute, NU, Canada. Your mission is to write up to 150 words inspired by the location. Feel free to use the image supplied in the prompt or snag your own. Both streetview and photospheres are available in this location.

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

In pursuance of a story this morning, I ended up south of Resolute, although still in Nunavut. Thanks as always to Karen and Josh for facilitating this blog challenge.

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 150

BIRTHRIGHT

“You hold the pencil like this.” I imagine Napachie guiding her daughter’s tiny hand. “Draw what you see.”

I watch Annie draw a face on the paper and smile up at her mother. “I want to be an artist like you when I grow up, Anaana.”

Perhaps Napachie Pootoogook’s heart swelled with pride. “And like your grandmother Pitseolak Ashoona.”

Did fame destroy the child who became an internationally acclaimed artist? Her boyfriend claims she’d disappear for days to drink. Others say she feared him. Did he murder her? Or did it happen as the chief investigator told reporters?

“…could be suicide, accidental, she got drunk and fell in the river and drowned…much of the Aboriginal population in Canada is just satisfied being alcohol and drug abusers.”

What would she say?

Her depictions are courageous and straight forward. Although her pencils lay still and bereft, deep calls to deep. Annie speaks to me.

To know a little more CLICK here.

24 August 2018

Published August 22, 2018 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 © Carla Bicomong

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Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

WHAT A GREAT LIFE IT MUST SEEM

“You’re such a success, Elise.” says Mary. “I’m jealous.”

“You got it all, girlfriend,” Barbara adds. “You’re a published author and an artist? If I could do what you do, I’d truly be happy.”

Her compliment is coupled with a longing gaze at Elise’s recently finished seascape.

A mixture of pride and something other than joy floods Elise as her admirers kiss her cheek and leave. She sinks to her knees under the weight of her adult daughter’s scathing words, spewed in anger the night before. Her accusations haunt Elise and reduce her to ash.

“I’m such a failure.”

10 August 2018

Published August 8, 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 © Ronda Del Boccio

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Genre: Realistic Fiction – Based on more than one true story.

Word Count: 100

BRICK BY BRICK

Kendra remembers the first magical moment she cradled her newborn.

Her pediatrician’s brow furrowed. “She has a slight heart defect but that’s not our foremost concern.”

Kendra became familiar with terms like ‘extra chromosome’ and ‘developmentally challenged.’

Defying all obstacles, Hanna trained as a gymnast with ‘normal’ girls, surpassing many of them in strength and grace. At the Special Olympics, she walked away with several trophies and a boyfriend, a medal-winning swimmer.

Kendra blinks back tears as two kindred souls gaze into each other’s eyes.

Although her speech is slurred, Hannah’s halting words are clear. “I Hannah take thee, Calan…”

*

Maryanne and Tommy Pilling have been happily married for 23 years.

For an inspiring true story CLICK HERE

3 August 2018

Published August 1, 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.

Note- I am out of town this week so my replies and comments will be delayed. Thank you for understanding. Shalom, Rochelle

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.

get the InLinkz code

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

ANNIVERSARY WALTZ

“Oh how we danced on the night we were wed.”

Charlene remembers the song the band played for their first dance as man and wife. With his wavy blond hair, Larry was her Prince Charming.

His hot breath in her ear gave her shivers when he sang, “Two hearts gently beating were murmuring low.”

An unrestrained belch brings her back to the present. His golden curls are long gone, but his eyes remain as blue as ever. She leans her head on his shoulder.

His hot breath still gives her shivers when he sings “My darling, I love you so.”

****

NOTE ON MY PROCESS

(not required reading. 😉 )

Without a doubt, there are some of you scratching your heads, wondering how I came up with this story from that photo. I understand. As briefly as possible I will try to explain. At first glance the photo said “Dust in the Wind.” (dry leaves, etc) From there my mind took me to crumbling relationships like marriages that end up being anything but “Happily Ever After.” From there I looked up the lyrics to the Anniversary Waltz. Somehow, my muse decided that my story should have a happy ending. So there you have it. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. 😉

Shalom,

Rochelle

IF THY RIGHT HAND OFFEND THEE

Published July 29, 2018 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman takes us to Kinshasa, in the Democratic Republic of the Congo.

Your mission is to write up to 150 words inspired by the location. Feel free to use the image provided in the prompt, or chose from photo spheres around Kinshasa. Once your piece is polished, share it with others using the linkup below.

Many thanks to Karen and Josh for facilitating this challenge for globetrotting writers. It’s the extra 50 words that keep me coming back. 😉

Remember – Reading and commenting on others’ work is part of the fun!

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

IF THY RIGHT HAND OFFEND THEE

August 12, 1896

Ma chérie,

I signed on for the Congo, eager to serve Leopold—to civilize the savage.

I hold your face in my heart—the celestial blue of your eyes, the curve of your fair cheek and sweetness of your lips. But this vision is no longer enough to sustain me. Forgive, my love, another face has replaced yours. It is magnificent. Brown with midnight eyes. Every whit as handsome as our own Francois and no older.

I followed orders. I lopped off his right hand for not meeting our rubber quotas. What kind of savage does this to another human being?

________

Upon entering the tent, Andre dropped to his knees. “Dear God!”

Louis tutted and pulled a blanket over their fallen comrade. “Why on earth did Thomas take his own life?”

Picking up a blood-spattered hatchet, Andre shuddered. “And how could he chop off his own hand?”

In 1896, a German journalist reported that 1,308 hands were collected in one day.

CLick HERE to watch the disturbing documentary.

27 July 2018

Published July 25, 2018 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.

get the InLinkz code

Genre: Historical/Biographical Fiction

Word Count: 100

STRANGERS IN THE NIGHT

After thirty hours of labor, at 3 o’clock in the morning, Dolly’s desperate physician resorted to forceps to deliver her baby.

Dolly clutched her sister’s hand. “Josie, is it a girl? I don’t hear her cry. Is she—?”

“Stillborn,” said the doctor, sweat beading his forehead. “He nearly killed his mama.”

The midwife laid the motionless infant on the kitchen scale. “Thirteen pounds. Big boy for such a tiny mother.” She held him under running water. “Sveglia!”

He sputtered and cried.

“Hello, piccolo sconosciuto.” Dolly Sinatra took her wailing son in her arms. “Just listen to my Francis sing.”

*piccolo sconosciuto is Italian for ‘little stranger’

Sveglia is “Wake up!”

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Because a story about Old Blue Eyes wouldn’t be complete without a song, I leave you with one that Frank Sinatra hated when he first heard it. Doobie doobie doo.