Friday Fictioneers

All posts tagged Friday Fictioneers

18 January 2018

Published January 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 © Dale Rogerson

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Ever have one of those weeks where the prompt doesn’t spark a single viable idea? No thesaurus in the world can help. We all have them. Here’s the result of my brain freeze. 

Genre: Hysterical Fiction

Word Count: 100

STREAM OF UNCONSCIOUSNESS

To Whom it May Concern,

I cannot write today. My imaginary friends won’t speak to me. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul. Mine are broken. All the duct tape in the world won’t put Humpty Dumpty back together again. The face in the mirror is blank. No reflection on you, of course. Have I reached 100 words? Nope. Thirty-three and a third to go. That’s an LP you know. They were vinyl CD’s back in the days before stereo was king. And nothing rhymes with orange. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Shalom,

Rochelle

11 January 2019

Published January 9, 2019 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 © Priya Bajpal

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The following is an excerpt, cut down to size, from my WIP “What the Heart Wants.” The year is 1881. Aggie, a former nun who worked at the Indian boarding school, has fled, taking Ruth Bear Starfire with her for her own protection.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

NEGOTIATIONS

            “Pretty li’l Injun,” said the general store clerk. “What tribe?”

            Ruth’s cheeks blazed. 

            “She’s my daughter,” said Aggie.

            “Uh-huh.” He eyed Aggie’s blonde hair. “Strong resemblance.”  

            “How much for the Winchester?”

   “$40. Firm.”

            “I’ll give ya $25.”

            “$35.” 

            “Please, sir. My baby ain’t et no meat in a coon’s age.” Aggie crossed herself. “I’m a-prayin to the Blessed Virgin my Ruthie don’t perish from starvation.”

            “$25 it is.” With a bucktoothed grin he laid sacks of sugar and flour on the counter. “I can’t have your deaths on my conscience.” 

            “Would you mind tossing in some sorghum and cornmeal, too?”

*Note to those who feel they can’t cut their stories down to 100 words. The excerpt I started with was 383 words. Certainly, cutting it lost the original intent of the chapter. However it turned it into another aspect of the same story and, I think, stands alone. 

*Note 2, for those wondering how the photo prompt inspired my offering. This takes place in an old fashion general story where candy was kept in large jars. In the original chapter the store clerk offer little Ruth a candy stick. 

 

 

4 January 2019

Published January 2, 2019 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. 

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

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 © Russell Gayer

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Genre: Historical Friction

Word Count: 100

PILLAR OF FAITH

“Hurry, wife. The city’s crumbling around us.” The aged patriarch bent to fasten his sandals, and straightened with a groan. “Oy. I’m too old for this.”

            “Do you prefer the blue tunic or the beige?” She held them up. “I think the blue brings out my eyes.”

            “Woman! Are you meshuga? An angel warns us of the incoming wrath of God and you’re concerned with clothes?”

            “No fashion sense.” She rolled her eyes. “You really believe this judgement mishegoss, don’t you?”

            “Don’t you?”

            “Angel shmangel.” She shrugged. “Lot, my love. I take everything you say with a grain of salt.”  

*For those unfamiliar with Old Testament Bible stories, when God delivered Lot and his family from the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, the angel had instructed them not to look back. Lot’s wife did and turned into a pillar of salt. 

***

ANNOUNCING:

My Coffee Table book A STONE FOR THE JOURNEY is now available on Amazon KINDLE, Paperback or Hardcover.  Hardcover is also available at Barnes & Noble.com

I’m not crazy about the formatting job they did on the Kindle, but it’s all there. 😉 I’ve yet to see the paperback version so I reserve opinion. Nor do I understand why the paperback and hardcover are the same price. 

 

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28 December 2018

Published December 26, 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. 

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. 

PHOTO PROMPT © Randy Mazie

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For those who celebrate, I hope you had a wonderful Christmas. Another rerun this week. For those who have written for this prompt (and you know who you are) feel free to post a repeat as well. This is my story from July 12, 2013 . Time flies, doesn’t it? Thanks to all who have hung with me for the past 6 years. I’d list them, but I’d be sure to leave someone out. Hard to believe this is the last Friday Fictioneers post for 2018! A HAPPY HEALTHY NEW YEAR TO ALL! Shalom, Rochelle 

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

BRIGHT BLESSED DAY, DARK SACRED NIGHT

            Life in 1907 New Orleans made Rebecca Karnofsy question the “land of the free”. As in Russia, they were still persecuted. Scapegoats.

            After circling her hands around the candles, she recited the Sabbath prayer, ending with, “Omayn and Gut Shabbos.”

            “Gut Shabbos.” Louis’ smile eclipsed his midnight-brown face.

            “A fine boy.” Bernie patted his head. “Already he’s repaid my loan.”  

            One of the Karnofsky boys sniffed. “He just bought a dumb old horn.”

            Eyes wider than wide, Louis jumped up from his chair. “Someday dis whole wonderful world gon’ hear my trumpet an’ know my name is Louis Daniel Armstrong!”

Young Louis Armstrong with his mother and sister.

Amen.

****

ANNOUNCING:

My Coffee Table book A STONE FOR THE JOURNEY is now available on Amazon KINDLE or Paperback. Hardcover is available at Barnes & Noble.com

The print version is also available on Amazon.co.uk. Amazon Australia and India have the Kindle version only. I’m not crazy about the formatting job they did on the Kindle, but it’s all there. 😉 

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21 December 2018

Published December 19, 2018 by rochellewisoff

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Please be considerate of 70 or more participants and keep your story to 100 words. Thank you. 

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. 

Copyright – Adam Ickes

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Another week of reruns. This is a story I posted 5 years ago 13 December 2013 Click the link to see who was with us then. A few of you may have written a story for this prompt. If so, feel free to post your own rerun. 

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

UNEXPECTED GIFT, UNEXPECTED TIME

            Charli’s hiking boots are caked with dried mud that defies my cleaning efforts.

            From her first cry, I dreamed of dressing my firstborn in pink pinafores with ruffled lace. But, before she turned two, Charli made it clear she detested pink.

            Since then, I’ve given birth to another tomboy and a son who happens to love pink. Go figure.

            After the accident on her thirteenth birthday, the boots were the only part of Charli I didn’t sell, toss or donate.

            I listen for the doorbell. In a moment I’ll meet the girl to whom I gave my daughter’s untamed heart.

14 December 2018

Published December 12, 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. 

Copyright –Douglas M. MacIlroy

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The holiday season is upon us and I find myself to be busier than a one-armed paper hanger. Between the mandatory gifting, my husband’s birthday the 15th, book signings/art shows, and working on a new novel that’s taking up quite a bit of head-space, I’ve taken the liberty to craft this dreadful run-on sentence and also to post some reruns this month. The photo and story are from December 14, 2012 Some may remember it. For those of you who wrote a story for this prompt, feel free to post a rerun. The photographer of this prompt has been MIA for a while, but I assure you, our disc flinger is alive, well, and happy. 

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

UNHOLY BONDS

            Somewhere between “I do” and diapers Gavin’s winsome bride turned into a nattering, self-centered shrew. Everything he said or did she took as either an affront or lack of caring.

            If he brought her flowers she accused him of seeing another woman. If he made overtures she accused him of treating her like a sex object.

            Eventually he gave up trying to fix their relationship and escaped to his garage sanctuary. 

            One afternoon Lois stood over him, packed suitcase and their three-year-old son in tow. “I’m leaving.”

            “Pick up a quart of milk.”

            “For good.”

            He smiled. Peace at last!    

7 December 2018

Published December 5, 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. 

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. 

PHOTO PROMPT © Dawn M. Miller

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

JOURNEY TO THE FRONT OF THE ROOM

“Tell me ‘bout when you was a boy, Daddy.”

            Henry hugged little Hattie, the baby of his thirteen children.  “Last time I got sold I mighta been nine, maybe ten.”

            “Play your banjo, Daddy.”  Her huge eyes shone. “Please.”

            “Only if’n you sings along.”

***

            After performing in carnivals and minstrel shows, Hattie McDaniel set her sights on Hollywood.

            In the 1940’s and 50’s the NAACP criticized the Oscar winning actress for her servile screen roles.  She defied her accusers saying, “Until you offer a better alternative, I’d rather portray a maid for $700 a week than be one for seven.”

 

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