Friday Fictioneers

All posts tagged Friday Fictioneers

27 September 2019

Published September 25, 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 © Na’ama Yehuda

Frog delightfully rendered by Keith Hillman

Genre: Hysterical Friction

Word Count: 100

CRY OR LAUGH?

Despite prognosticators’ predictions for probable precipitation, we preferred not to pass up a potentially profitable fair.

Although overcast, no rain befell us Saturday morning. Excited energy prevailed over the park full of local artists whose crafts ranged from jewelry and ceramics to paintings and photography.

Patrons crowded my tent.

“Beautiful work.

“Magnificent watercolor technique.”

Sprinkles gave way to downpour. The crowds dispersed.

We did our best to shield my vulnerable artwork.

Sales from a few bedraggled diehards kept the day from being a total bust.  

I shrugged and grinned at my damp-around-the-edges husband. “Not exactly our finest hour, is it?”

***

The rain was quite heavy at times. The tent next to ours collapsed on the artists and their ceramics. The park was a virtual swamp. Although some came back for day 2 on Sunday, many of us did not. Below are a few pictures of the ill-fated event.

 

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.

PHOTO PROMPT © CEAyr

Flying Froggy

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. 

PHOTO PROMPT © Penny Gadd

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.”

For More Info

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. 

PHOTO PROMPT © Linda Kreger 

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 havefrom 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.’”

 

My brother Jeffrey and his wife Debbie.

*The title is Latin for Handwriting. The story itself is not my own, but my brother’s. It was too good not to share. 

WAKE-UP CALL

Published August 21, 2019 by rochellewisoff

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

FOR A GOOD TIME CLICK THE FROG!

This is something I don’t think I’ve done before. I’m back for a third time. 😀

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

WAKE-UP CALL

            Bart slipped into the booth across from Marla. “That was some wedding yesterday.” He clutched the ring in his pocket waiting for the right moment.

            She swished her luxurious hair over her toned shoulders. “Your sister and her groom make an odd couple.”

            “They’re so in love. To think I set ‘em up for laughs—him being such a scrawny runt and her being—”

            “Plump?”

            “I’ve always teased her about it.” Bart hung his head.    

            “I so get it.” Marla giggled. “I’ll have a salad. How about you?”

             Swallowing, he released the ring. “Y’know, I’ve suddenly lost my appetite.”

THERE IS LOVE

Published August 21, 2019 by rochellewisoff

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

For a good time, click me!

I’m back for seconds.

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

THERE IS LOVE

            The organist played Paul Stookey’s “Wedding Song.”

            Denise strolled toward Grant holding her father’s arm. Her round face shone. Grant’s heart raced. Why would such a beautiful woman choose him? 

            His best man Bart elbowed him. “Here comes the wide-track bride.”

            “If you think so little of her, why’d you set us up?”

            “She’s my sister. I felt sorry for her.”

            Grant remembered how nervous he’d been until their fateful blind date when her periwinkle eyes and infectious laughter put him at ease.   

            He elbowed Bart. “Make one more wisecrack about my lovely wife and you’ll be my toothless brother-in-law.”

*

*

*

If you’ve never heard it, here’s your chance to hear Paul Stookey singing his Wedding Song

23 August 2019

Published August 21, 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

So I’m not blue. Click on me anyway. 

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

CHEMISTRY

“He has a great personality,” said her brother Bart.

Twenty pounds overweight with no prospects, Denise agreed to a blind date.  

Grant was a lulu—kinky orange hair and squinted eyes behind thick horn-rim glasses.  

He fidgeted and checked his watch. “We ordered dinner an hour ago.”

“Yeah, I’m wasting away to a ton.”

“Stop it. You’re just right.”

Denise’s cheeks warmed. “Really?”

“And pretty.”

She relaxed. They chatted away like two old friends until their orders came.  

“Filet of dinosaur.” She skewered her steak. “Yum.”   

He flashed a dazzling smile. “Bart didn’t lie. You do have a great personality.”

 

16 August 2019

Published August 14, 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 © Jan Wayne Fields

Click on the Frog! 

Genre: Hysterical Friction

Word Count: 100

ALL THE AMENITIES

            May 1984. We couldn’t wait to take advantage of our newly-purchased lot in a nearby recreational development. So we packed our children-plus-one and everything we needed for a successful camping trip.

            Sometime in the night the soothing buzz of locusts gave way to thunder and driving rain that demolished our tents.

            Thanks to the help of a sympathetic grounds attendant, our excursion ended in a half-finished bathroom with three bedraggled boys and one engorged mother whose inconsolable baby chose the worst time to wean himself.

            Shivering, I muttered to my grumpy husband. “Someday we’ll look back at this and laugh.”

9 August 2019

Published August 7, 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 © Randy Mazie

Some of you may recognize this photo and may even think you’ve written a story for it. If you were part of Friday Fictioneers the week of December 6, 2013, you’re probably right. 😉 I’m off to visit my brother in North Carolina this week so I’m taking the liberty of posting a retread. To see the original post and who the Fictioneers were click here

Do it! Do it! Click the frog!

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

CLOSE ENCOUNTER

             Darlene rescued the tiny, squalling creature from a smelly garbage can. He squirmed and squeaked as she cuddled him on the way home.  

            “It’s E.T., Mommy. Can I keep him?”  

            “He needs special care, honey.” Mom gently wrapped him in a blanket and picked up the phone.

            To Darlene’s delight, after months of social workers’ visits, Mom said, “He’s ours, sweetie, but we can’t call him E.T. What shall we name your new brother?”

            “Elliott!”

            Five years later, when Elliott scribbled green flying saucers all over her math homework, Darlene screamed, “You little monster! You really are from outer space.”     

 

***

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