23 July 2021

Published July 21, 2021 by rochellewisoff

The following photo is the PHOTO PROMPT, a cool picture for hot days, depending on your side of the globe. Where does it take you? Tell us in a hundred words or less.

PHOTO PROMPT© Na’ama Yehuda תודה חברה שלי 😉

Some of you may remember this story. I posted it exactly six years ago this week. Different photo prompt.

Genre: Science Friction

Word Count: 100

YOUNGER DRYAS

“The weatherman says we can expect another six inches of global warming tonight.” Kent knelt and shaped a mound of wet snow into a ball. Then he stood and let it fly. “Look out, Taffy. Here comes some of your greenhouse effect!”

The snowball splattered against the back of Taffy’s head and ice rolled down her neck. She spun around. “How can you ignore what’s happening right under your nose?”

“Climate change? Hooey and hogwash!”

Taffy bent and dug a conch shell from a knee-high drift. “Doesn’t this weather strike you as being a bit odd for Florida in mid-July?”

***

Climate-Change-Public-Domain-620x330 — **click**

16 July 2021

Published July 14, 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.

Yes, it’s one of “those” stories from me. (No apologies). The subject is heavy on the mind of Kansas Citians this summer as the Auschwitz exhibit “Not Long Ago. Not Far Away.” is at our Union Station until September. Not to mention, this weekend is Tisha B’av or the 9th of Av when, historically, many calamities befell the Jews, including the fall of the temple in 70 C.E. and the deportation from the Warsaw Ghetto (July 23, 1942) to Treblinka. It is observed with fasting as one of the saddest days on the Jewish calendar.

Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

THE HYENA

“The train took us to Auschwitz.” Marta tried to still her voice echoing in the microphone. “From there they forced us to walk to Bergen-Belsen.”

“How old are you, Marta?”

“Seventeen, sir.”

The lawyer pointed at the group of numbered defendants. “Are any of these familiar?”

A young woman glared at her with ice-blue eyes. Marta shuddered. “Number nine. She tormented starving children with scraps of food and whipped them to death when they cried.”

“I’ve heard Irma Grese laughed on her way to the gallows,” said Marta seventy years later. “Now I can laugh as she rots in hell.”

CLICK FOR MORE ABOUT THE “HYENA OF AUSCHWITZ”

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.

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 TO JOIN

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

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.

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 4^th 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.

CLICK TO LEARN MORE

One Swell Foop

Published June 23, 2021 by rochellewisoff

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.

We still carried on without shade. Next week will be better, right? New tent in transit. Plan B in progress. 😀

To View my artwork CLICK

25 June 2021

Published June 23, 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 © 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

Like us on Facebook

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 TO PARTICIPATE

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.

CLICK TO KNOW MORE AND HEAR THE MAN HIMSELF.

11 June 2021

Published June 9, 2021 by rochellewisoff

Like us on Facebook

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.

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.’”

4 June 2021

Published June 2, 2021 by rochellewisoff

Like us on Facebook.

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.

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

Like us on Facebook.

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 FROG TO JOIN

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.”

***