Friday Fictioneers

All posts tagged Friday Fictioneers

9 July 2021

Published July 7, 2021 by rochellewisoff

For those who know our MIA FF’r Ted Strutz who suffered a stroke a while back, I wanted to share his progress.

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PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

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A few might remember a longer version of this story I posted for “What Pegman Saw” in 2017. With the summer being as busy as it is, it seemed like a good time to share a rerun. 😉

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

COUNTRY ROADS

“My dearest Jimmy,

Remember 1971? The year we came back from Vietnam. John Denver must’ve written his hit with you in mind.  

“‘Pineville, West Virginia,’ you whispered low and sweet. Your eyes shone like the stars over the Shenandoah River. You laughed. ‘Just a Podunk town in the middle of nowhere.’

Nonetheless, to you it was ’almost heaven’.”

Sharon tucked the note inside his guitar and leaned it against his headstone. “I kept my promise to meet you here, Jimmy.”

Forever she would carry his face in her heart and hear his last words, “Nurse, please don’t let me die.”

***

In this image provided by the U.S. Army, the 2nd Brigade was faced with a new problem at their Bien Hoa, Vietnam base: from Fort Rilay to Vietnam come the 93rd Evacuation Hospital complete with nurses on Dec. 19, 1965. The problem of getting a private shower for the girls fell to Company B 1st Engineer Battalion. In the interests of the health, welfare and cleanliness of the nurses, the men of Company B decided to give up their own air-conditioned shower. The dressing area of the shower was boarded up and the entrance-way closed off. An appropriate “Off Limits” sign was made and posted. (AP Photo/U.S. Army)

2 July 2021

Published June 30, 2021 by rochellewisoff
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PHOTO PROMPT © Russell Gayer

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

HIS BROTHER’S KEEPER

“He drove that VW Microbus with “Love is progress—hate is expensive” painted on the back from St. Johns Island to Charlotte.” Grandma Selma’s dark cheeks shone. “Thanks to him I earned three diplomas.”  

            “Who?” asked Tanisha.

            “Who indeed? Girl, he should be in your history books. When he was just a little boy, he had to quit school after the 4th grade, but he still found ways to further his education. And then made sure us kids did the same. Took us to school or anywhere else we needed to go. Esau Jenkins was the wheels beneath our wings.

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One Swell Foop

Published June 23, 2021 by rochellewisoff
PHOTO PROMPT © Brenda Cox

It’s me again. Double dipping. When you read you might understand why. Nothing fictitious about this story…sigh.

Genre: Hysterical Faction
Word Count: 100

ONE SWELL FOOP

My husband and I raised our purple canopy for the weekly farmer’s market. A breeze cooled my back. “At least it’s not as hot as last Tuesday.

            Jan mopped sweat from his eyes. “Still warm and windy, though. Wish we’d brought weights to hold this thing down.”

            Then, he stood back and admired our handiwork—gridwalls loaded with framed works, tables full of books, notecards, and prints. “Nicest setup here.”  

Perching on my purple chair, I posted pictures and greetings to Facebook and awaited prospective customers. Suddenly a strong gust upended my tent. How quickly triumph can turn to tragedy.

To my honey who puts his heart and soul into the setup to make me look good. Note the gridwall. Some of those frames bit the dust, but the artwork is intact.
Moments before disaster struck.
We still carried on without shade. Next week will be better, right? New tent in transit. Plan B in progress. 😀

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25 June 2021

Published June 23, 2021 by rochellewisoff
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PHOTO PROMPT © Brenda Cox

Hear the author read. 🙂

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

FOREST OF THE MARTYRS

Avraham set the seedling in the hole he had dug. “Blessed are You, Master of the Universe, Creator of life. May the memories of my Sarah and our little Isaac be blessed.”

            Hannah helped Avraham cover the tender roots with sandy soil. “May the memory of my Shmuel also be blessed.”

            Under Israel’s hot summer sun many others had come to plant. Their goal was to raise six million trees, one for each life taken.”

Avraham placed his hand on Hannah’s belly and smiled through his tears when their unborn child kicked. “By their deaths, they commanded us to live.”

The six million trees, planted in 1951 by Jewish National Fund, World B’nai Brith and immigrants, are a living monument of eternally green memorial candles for the six million of our people who perished during World War II.

18 June 2021

Published June 16, 2021 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Alicia Jamtaas

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Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

HERMIT OF COLD RIVER

I came upon Noah and his crude cabin quite by accident while hiking in the Adirondacks back in 1938. Hospitable fella. Self-proclaimed mayor of Cold River City. Population: one.  

            “I left home as a youngster.” He puffed on his pipe. “I had my fill of American industrial slavery and highway carnage.”

            “Don’tcha miss people?” I asked.

            “Not much. I got my little garden. Fish in summer, venison in winter. An elegant sufficiency.”

            In 1967 I read in the newspaper of Noah John Rondeau’s passing at the age of eighty-four in a hospital room. Not exactly the sendoff he’d hoped for.

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11 June 2021

Published June 9, 2021 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Genre: Hysterical Fiction
Word Count: 100

TANG TALES

“Tang. NASA sent it to outer space.” Russell stirred orange powder into his water. “Remember the commercials when we were kids? I wanted to be an astronaut like John Glenn.”

“Just like I remember. Fortified with vitamin C and full of sugar.” Rochelle raised her glass. “To William A. Mitchell, the Montana farm boy who grew up to be a food chemist and invented not only Tang, but Cool Whip and Pop Rocks as well.”

            “A toast to our maven of trivia,” Russell took a sip and grimaced. “Blecch! Gimme a beer instead. To quote astronaut Buzz Aldrin, ‘Tang sucks.’”

William A. Mitchell

4 June 2021

Published June 2, 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

Genre: Memoir
Word Count: 100

PATERNAL HEART

For as long as I can remember Dad took certain girls under his wing wherever he worked.  It’s not like he preyed on young women. He simply saw a need and answered the call.

I accepted them as friends and sisters. One of them still is. She introduced me to her brother. I married him.  

“Donna’s daddy passed away when she was a little girl,” said Dad.  “She says I’ve filled her dad-shaped void.”

I’ll never forget the devastating phone call in the middle of the night. A drunk driver snuffed out seventeen-year-old Donna’s life and shattered my father’s heart.

28 May 2021

Published May 26, 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 © Miles Rost

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Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

INNOVATIONS

Millie Levy loved to learn about inventors. Famous or obscure. It didn’t matter.  

“I wonder what Alexander Graham Bell would say about the iPhone.” She mused. “Or what Edison would think about LED lights.”

Millie’s brother Eli rolled his eyes. “Who cares?”

“I do. Get this. Maria Beasley invented a barrel-making machine in 1878. And J.F. Glidden was first to patent barbed wire in 1874. He made a fortune off cattle ranchers and farmers.”

Grandma Rachel pointed to the tattooed numbers on her arm. “I wonder what Mr. Glidden would say if he knew how Hitler used his precious invention.”

***

21 May 2021

Published May 19, 2021 by rochellewisoff

Dear Friday Fictioneers,
😦 Our friend and fellow Friday Fictioneer in Friday Harbor (of all places) has suffered a stroke. We wish him a swift recovery. And for those who would like to send him a card or note to cheer him on, email me at rwisofffields.wordart@gmail.com for the address.
Shalom,
Rochelle

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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 © Na’ama Yehuda

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

THE GOLDEN DOOR

                                                5 July 1887

Dearest Anya,

“Greetings from the city of New York. Last night I went to watch fireworks and see the new Statue of Liberty. She is magnificent. I can’t wait until you see her with your own eyes.

You ask how I am. What could be better than living in the land of opportunity?  

Angry shouts echoed from downstairs. Shlomo stopped writing his letter and surveyed his one-room apartment. He continued, “There are no Cossacks.” A baby howled in the flat next door. Shlomo’s stomach rumbled. He looked out at the peaceful street and wrote, “All is well.”  

***

14 May 2021

Published May 12, 2021 by rochellewisoff

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

You might remember my story a few weeks back about Korean American actor Philip Ahn. He was the eldest of four children. How could I resist shining a spotlight on his little sister Susan?

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count : 100

AMERICAN HERITAGE

“Appa,” eleven-year-old Susan blinked back tears. “Why must you go back to Korea?”

“There is work to be done.” Dosan caressed his daughter’s cheek. “Do your best to be a good American citizen but never forget your heritage.”

***

“How do I know you’re not the enemy?” asked the enlistment officer.

“I’m not Japanese. I’m Korean American.” Twenty-seven-year-old Susan bristled but stood her ground. “And proud to serve my country.”

“Okay, sign on the bottom line.”

***

Refusing to surrender to sexism or racism, Susan Ahn Cuddy served during WWII and became the first female aerial gunnery officer in the U.S. Navy.

***

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