13 July 2018

Published July 11, 2018 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 © Liz Young

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

DESTINED TO CARRY A NATION

Crumpling the telegram in her fist, Carrie flung it to the floor. Anger, coupled with grief, bubbled from the depths of her being. “That worthless excuse for a husband, Charles Gloyd. I just knew demon rum would kill the shameless sot sooner than later.”

Baby Charlien awoke to the sound of her mother’s sobs and added her own squalls. Carrie lifted her daughter into her arms and cuddled her to her breast. She softly sang, “Onward Christian soldiers, marching as to war…”

As the child’s eyes fluttered shut, Carrie whispered, “Men are nicotine soaked, beer besmirched, whiskey greased, red-eyed devils.”

“You have put me in here a cub, but I will come out roaring like a lion, and I will make all hell howl!” Carry A. Nation upon being locked in jail.

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6 July 2018

Published July 4, 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.

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

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This is a rerun that perhaps a handful of you will remember from October 31, 2012 with a different photo prompt, then titled CIRCLE IN A SPIRAL. It’s still among my favorites. I’ve dusted it off and tweaked it a bit.

Here in the States it’s Independence Day commemorating the freedom we enjoy. Amid the fireworks and feasting we do well to remember countless men and women have paid the ultimate price for our celebrations. Pass the mustard, please.

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

PRESUMED DEAD

Before he deployed, Nathan loved amusement parks. He’d coax Jeanette onto the Ferris wheel and laugh so loud at her fear of heights others would turn and smile.

Eight months ago a roadside bomb exploded in Afghanistan.

Still wearing her engagement ring, Jeanette takes her brother to the park but greasy odors and the pungent crowd suffocate her.

From the shadows, a marine balanced on his one leg, reaches for her with a prosthetic hand. “I’m half a man, Jeanette. I’m afraid I can never—”

“Nathan! Shut up and kiss me.”

She laughs so loud others turn and smile.

*

Stained Glass Flag © Jean L. Hays

29 June 2018

Published June 27, 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.

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

UNFORGETTABLE

When Nathaniel tickled the ivories, he mesmerized Chicago’s jazz club audiences. The talented sixteen-year-old played for hot dogs, soda pop and pure joy. In 1935, he and his band, the Rogues of Rhythm, challenged the great Earl Hines and his Orchestra to a musical duel—and won.

Twenty-one years later, Capitol Records’ leading vocalist became the first African American to host his own television program. Performers from Sinatra to Ella Fitzgerald clamored to donate their services. Despite rave reviews, white sponsors refused to back him.

Fighting tears, Nat King Cole cancelled his show saying, “Madison Avenue’s afraid of the dark.”

*

Buddy DeSylva, founder of Capitol Records, is quoted as having said, “If Nat Cole were white, he’d be bigger than Sinatra or Crosby.”

Here’s a clip from the ill-fated The Nat “King” Cole Show

22 June 2018

Published June 20, 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.

PHOTO PROMPT © Fatima Fakier

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As you read my story, you might be thinking the woman doesn’t know her geography. However the muse took me far from this Venice. Just think Thoreau. 😉

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

ENEMY NON-ALIEN

February 14, 1943

Dear Diary,

Last night I dreamt I was back at Venice beach with my baby brother when armed soldiers snatched him away. I woke up screaming.

This morning my mother smiled a smile that couldn’t hide her sorrow. “Happy birthday, Suzuka.”

For years my parents longed for another child. Mommy prayed for a son. Last year we celebrated Hiroshi’s arrival—my 14^th birthday present—right before the ‘executive order.’

Six months ago he died of pneumonia.

Sun glints off the barbed wire fence as my classmates and I recite the Pledge of Allegiance to the American flag.

*

Pat Morita, American actor, who was sent with his parents to an internment camp.

Red-Blooded American Propaganda

American Actor, George Takei who spent time with his family in the camps as a child.

One of my favorite books on the subject, The Red Kimono, was written by our own FF’r Jan Morrill.

15 June 2018

Published June 13, 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.

PHOTO PROMPT © Jean L. Hays

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Genre: Literary Fiction

Word Count: 100

THE NIGHT BEFORE

At rehearsal dinner Daddy beamed. “Welcome to the family, Nathan.”

Nathan’s ice-blue eyes scorched me. “Til death do us part.”

The thick summer breeze did little to cool the screened-in sleeping porch. Nonetheless, Jimmy’s hot breath on my neck gave me chills.

“Nathan will kill you, Jimmy.”

“Don’t matter without you, Lucie.”

Whirring cicadas drowned out my whispered protests. Mutual desire finally had its way and I melted into Jimmy’s ebony arms.

___

No doubt Mama will swoon and Daddy will swear at the shame I’ve brought.

Miles from them, my beloved’s dark eyes consume me. “Til death do us part.”

8 June 2018

Published June 6, 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.

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

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Genre: Speculative Fiction

Word Count: 100

DAY OF ATONEMENT

“Pardon me, Frau, what year is this?”

“Why 1889, of course.” The young mother lifts her son from his wicker pram. “5 October to be exact.”

My heart thumps. Weinstein, that lunatic genius has done it. It’s 200 years ago.

“Could you direct me to Salzburger Vorstadt 219?”

“That’s our address.”

“Frau—Hitler?”

“Ja.” She presses her cheek against the baby’s. “Adolf, let’s show the nice man the way.”

I tighten my hand around the gun in my pocket. The child gazes at me with innocent blue eyes.

What can I do? I’m doomed to let history run its course.

It’s a rhetorical question. Think hard before answering. Given the opportunity, could you pull the trigger?

*Note: October 5, 1889 was the highest of high Jewish holidays, Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. What better day to off the future Fuehrer?

This is a bit unusual for me, but one FF’r took it upon herself to write her story as a solution to my protagonist’s dilemma. Here’s the link to Melody Pearson’s post.

1 June 2018

Published May 30, 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.

PHOTO PROMPT © Connie Gayer

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Genre: Questionable

Word Count: 100

THE CHEESE STANDS ALONE

“A dip in Farmer Gayer’s pond would feel mighty nice.” Hot from hiking, Shelley pointed at the man in overalls a few feet away and whispered to Dale. “Old buzzard’s as mean as they come.”

Dale tilted her head. “Looks harmless enough to me. Nice hat, eh? Maybe you should draw a picture of him as a peace offering.”

“Nothing doing. The wannabe art critic turned up his nose at my Winky.” Shelley opened her drawing pad to a sketch of a fawn. “That Nasal Falls curmudgeon wouldn’t know true talent if it hit him in a speeding purple truck.”

For some crackers with that cheese, click here.

25 May 2018

Published May 23, 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.

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

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Genre: Anecdote

Word Count: 100

VINTAGE

“Sesenta y seis.” Counting backwards, I freestyle, somersault at the wall and backstroke. “Sheshim v’hamesh…”

My Medicare card arrived yesterday, officially heralding the long-since passing of my youth.

“Sesenta y cuatro.” I flip and breast-stroke to the other side. “You’re only as old as you feel. Sheshim v’sh’losh…”

How do I feel?

The crystal bowl on my table sparkles in my mind—an heirloom dating back to my grandparents’ wedding in the early 1900’s. A century hasn’t dulled its beauty.

I dive under the water and flex my flippers. This little mermaid has miles to swim before that final lap.

Yes the bowl in the photo is the bowl in my story. 😉 Originally it was part of a three-piece set. My dad was one of three children. My grandparents gave each of them a piece when they married. Personally I think my parents got the best of the set. It has been a source of fascination since I can remember. And, yes, I do count backwards, alternating Spanish and Hebrew when I swim laps. (Sensenta y seis -66, sheshim v’hamesh -65, sesenta y cuatro – 64, sheshim v’sh’losh – 63 and so on and so on and scooby dooby do 😉 ) It helps me stay focused. The pool at our fitness center is 25 ft in length. 66 lengths equals a mile.

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18 May 2018

Published May 16, 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.

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

FOOTPRINTS

The uniformed matron smiled. “Take off your shoes and tie the laces together so you can find them more quickly after your shower.”

The doors clanked shut behind the child. No cleansing water sprayed from the nozzles.

Cold tile chilled his bare feet. Naked, he shivered and gasped his final breaths.

“Mama! Mama!”

His desperate, silenced voice rattles my soul.

Could he have been another Einstein?

Perhaps he’d have been a storyteller whose words delighted thousands.

The shoe is crumpled and the eyelets are rusted. It fits the palms of my hands—the only evidence of a candle snuffed aborning.

*

11 May 2018

Published May 9, 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.

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Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 100

The story you are about to read is true. No names have been changed to protect the guilty.

FAMILY TIES

“Wise-off?”

“No. ‘Wiss-off.’ It’s a short ‘i’.”

Very few can pronounce it correctly on the first try. We were the only Wisoffs in Kansas City—probably the world. Talk about feeling like the odd one out.

“Your great-grandparents who came over from Lithuania with 7 children shortened Wissosky,” said Dad. “There are plenty more little Wisoffs running around back east.”

In 1999 thanks to AOL, I met Jill Wisoff who lives in New York City.

Say what you will about the evils of social media, but thanks to my unique surname, I don’t need DNA to find relatives on Facebook.

Click to hear and see a recent reading I did. Sight, sound and four flash fictions.