1 March 2019

Published February 27, 2019 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 © Jean L. Hays

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I hope the new format for the inLinkz works. Just click on the froggy. I’ve put the update off for a month. Don’t you love updates? I think I’ve done this right. I’m still resisting the new WordPress dashboard. 😉 In any event, after wrestling with the new inLinkz format, here’s my ‘story’ for this week.

Genre: Hysterical Fiction

Word Count: 100

DO YOU SEE WHAT I SEE?

“It’s not what you look at that matters…,” said Sandra.

“…it’s what you see,” said Shrawley.

“Our Fairy Blog Mother posts it almost every week like it’s highly significant or something.” Russell repositioned his clown nose while his pooch, Liza Jane, warbled a tune. “Ask Louisa May Alcott Wisoff-Fields yourself.”

“You yanks are so obtuse,” fumed Ali. “Don’t you see the flying saucer over the market?”

“Pfft!” Dale rolled her eyes. “Give it up.”

Rochelle’s frustration mounted. “The prompt is a mere suggestion. Use your imaginations, please.”

“Oooh. Now I see it.” Russell pointed to the Coors sign. “Bottoms up.”

22 February 2019

Published February 20, 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 © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

AWAKENED AND STIRRED

“You admit to helping to spread leaflets for those subversives calling themselves The White Rose?”

“What we wrote and said is also believed by many others. They just don’t dare express themselves as we did. And I would do it again.”

Swastika flag draped behind him, the judge stood and shook his fist. “For your crimes you’ve been sentenced this 22^nd day of February 1943.”

“As you will be judged for yours.”

Schubert’s “Andantino” played in twenty-one-year-old Sophie Scholl’s mind. Birds sang and the whole of creation called joyfully to her as she trembled before the guillotine, head held high.

*Note: This Friday is February 22, 2019 …76 years to the day Sophie, her brother Hans and his friend Christof were executed for standing up to Nazi barbarism. May their memories be blessed.

Sophie Scholl

***

The following video I add “just because.” The fact is the Nazis often forced Jewish musicians to accompany the condemned to the gas chambers. It’s long and not directly related to the story. To me it seemed to fit. Listen or not.

THE GOLDEN LOTUS

Published February 16, 2019 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman is in the Jaingxi province of China. There are a few more photosheres available than the last time I went searching in this area. Hopefully you can find something that inspires you. I had trouble getting to this area through the main Google maps, but you are free to try for yourself.

Your mission is to write up to 150 words inspired by the prompt. Whether you write fiction, poetry, sonnet, limerick or essay is completely up to you. Once your piece is polished, share it with others using the linkup below. Reading and commenting is part of the fun!

Thanks to Karen and Josh for hosting this weekly cruise.

During China’s Song Dynasty (970 – 1260), seen as property, a woman’s sole purpose was to please her husband. Officially sanctioned, foot-binding became the essence of feminine beauty. The smaller a woman’s foot, the better her chances of marrying well. The practice continued into the 20th century until China came under Communist rule.

To learn more CLICK HERE

It’s always fun to take on oldie out of mothballs and give it a fresh look. I first posted a version of this story in January 2013 for Friday Fictioneers.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

THE GOLDEN LOTUS

Bones bound and crushed in childhood, Zhen Xi’s feet fit a man’s palm. Such prized feet represented wealth and social status. Although the pain was often unbearable, she enjoyed the attention she garnered from the young men.

It came as no surprise when her youthful beauty caught wizened warlord Han Donhai’s eye.

She begged her father. “Please don’t make me marry him. Chan Ho is my true love.”

“We are poor. It is not for you to love.”

Every night she endured beatings following Han Donhai’s inadequacy. She feared she would ultimately suffer the same fate as three past wives who died under his sword for their failure to conceive.

Seven months after the wedding, fireworks spangled the sky in celebration of Donhai’s nine pound heir.

Hours later he wielded his blade over her head. “You faithless whore!”

She smiled. Her child would live while her unbound spirit ran free.

15 February 2019

Published February 13, 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 © J Hardy Carroll

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Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 100

MOTIF

South City View—we kids replaced ‘View’ with ‘Zoo.’ I suspect our overworked teachers used the same handle.

A bright spot for me was Mr. O’Neill, a teddy bear of a man. He taught art to all the elementary grades in the Center school district, going from school to school and room to room. His visits served as once-a-week holidays from routine classroom tedium.

In junior high, Mrs. Spears filled his vacancy in my life, followed by Mr. Creamer in high school. I often wonder what became of Robert H. O’Neill who added color, form and composition to my childhood.

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8 February 2019

Published February 6, 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 © Anshu Bhojnagarwala

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When I saw this picture, I decided it was the perfect time to rerun one of my favorites. Some of you might remember this one from four and a half years ago.

Genre: Hysterical Fiction

Word Count: 100

FIRE IN THE HOLE

Two months ago my husband bought a dehydrator, a nifty gadget that reduces ten pounds of apples to less than a pound of mummified slices in a matter of hours.

“Think of the money we’ll save,” said Jeff.

“Seriously?” I rolled my eyes.

The final straw came when he dehydrated jalapeños.

A short time later the dog begged to be let out. With my howling baby tucked under one arm and a handkerchief over my stinging nose I blindly kicked open the front door.

It took a week to fumigate the house. It’ll take longer to let Jeff back in.

25 January 2019

Published January 23, 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.

I must make mention here, that in the going on 7 years I’ve hosted Friday Fictioneers, this is one of the few Ted actually sent for use as a prompt. Usually I just ‘borrow’ them (with express permission, of course. 😉 Thanks, Ted. 😀

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

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Genre: Historical Faction

Word Count: 100

MCMLIII

“What’s so special about 1953?”

For one, Bob Wisoff bought his first car. A ’53 Chevrolet Bel Air.

September 4, he and Evalyne welcomed their second child.

On the same date, West Indian native, Clothilda Jacobs delivered her 5^th child, Lawrence. It was the twelfth day of New York’s longest recorded heatwave.

The Chevy is long gone.

Lawrence went on to delight audiences as Sweathog Freddy “Boom-Boom” Washington with a cocky grin and, “Hi there.”

Bob’s daughter, Rochelle, married and raised three sons. She still creates art, literature, and, occasionally, a bit of havoc.

It was a very good year.

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

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.

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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.