10 August 2018

Published August 8, 2018 by rochellewisoff

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 © Ronda Del Boccio

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Genre: Realistic Fiction – Based on more than one true story.

Word Count: 100

BRICK BY BRICK

Kendra remembers the first magical moment she cradled her newborn.

Her pediatrician’s brow furrowed. “She has a slight heart defect but that’s not our foremost concern.”

Kendra became familiar with terms like ‘extra chromosome’ and ‘developmentally challenged.’

Defying all obstacles, Hanna trained as a gymnast with ‘normal’ girls, surpassing many of them in strength and grace. At the Special Olympics, she walked away with several trophies and a boyfriend, a medal-winning swimmer.

Kendra blinks back tears as two kindred souls gaze into each other’s eyes.

Although her speech is slurred, Hannah’s halting words are clear. “I Hannah take thee, Calan…”

*

Maryanne and Tommy Pilling have been happily married for 23 years.

For an inspiring true story CLICK HERE

3 August 2018

Published August 1, 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.

Note- I am out of town this week so my replies and comments will be delayed. Thank you for understanding. Shalom, Rochelle

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 © Sandra Crook

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Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

ANNIVERSARY WALTZ

“Oh how we danced on the night we were wed.”

Charlene remembers the song the band played for their first dance as man and wife. With his wavy blond hair, Larry was her Prince Charming.

His hot breath in her ear gave her shivers when he sang, “Two hearts gently beating were murmuring low.”

An unrestrained belch brings her back to the present. His golden curls are long gone, but his eyes remain as blue as ever. She leans her head on his shoulder.

His hot breath still gives her shivers when he sings “My darling, I love you so.”

****

NOTE ON MY PROCESS

(not required reading. 😉 )

Without a doubt, there are some of you scratching your heads, wondering how I came up with this story from that photo. I understand. As briefly as possible I will try to explain. At first glance the photo said “Dust in the Wind.” (dry leaves, etc) From there my mind took me to crumbling relationships like marriages that end up being anything but “Happily Ever After.” From there I looked up the lyrics to the Anniversary Waltz. Somehow, my muse decided that my story should have a happy ending. So there you have it. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. 😉

Shalom,

Rochelle

27 July 2018

Published July 25, 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 © Ted Strutz 😀 (Thanks, Ted)

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Genre: Historical/Biographical Fiction

Word Count: 100

STRANGERS IN THE NIGHT

After thirty hours of labor, at 3 o’clock in the morning, Dolly’s desperate physician resorted to forceps to deliver her baby.

Dolly clutched her sister’s hand. “Josie, is it a girl? I don’t hear her cry. Is she—?”

“Stillborn,” said the doctor, sweat beading his forehead. “He nearly killed his mama.”

The midwife laid the motionless infant on the kitchen scale. “Thirteen pounds. Big boy for such a tiny mother.” She held him under running water. “Sveglia!”

He sputtered and cried.

“Hello, piccolo sconosciuto.” Dolly Sinatra took her wailing son in her arms. “Just listen to my Francis sing.”

*piccolo sconosciuto is Italian for ‘little stranger’

Sveglia is “Wake up!”

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Because a story about Old Blue Eyes wouldn’t be complete without a song, I leave you with one that Frank Sinatra hated when he first heard it. Doobie doobie doo.

20 July 2018

Published July 18, 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 © Dale Rogerson

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Genre: Historical/Biographical Fiction

Word Count: 100

LOVE THY NEIGHBOR

Resting his chin on his palm, Freddie pouted and stared out the window.

Fred McPheely ached for his grandson whose asthma prevented him from roughhousing outside with other children.

Sinking down beside him, Fred ruffled his namesake’s hair. “Feeling blue, kiddo?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” The boy sniffed. “Grandpa, why do neighborhood kids make fun of me?”

“Can’t say. Maybe they just need love. One thing I do know…”

***

Freddie never forgot what his grandfather said next. As Mister Rogers, he repeated it every afternoon to four generations of young television audiences across America.

“You make my day very special.”

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Fred Roegers – 1928-2003

Farewell to Trolley, King Friday, Queen Sarah Saturday, Officer Clemmons, Mr. McPheely. Daniel Tiger and the gang. You made us all feel very special.

13 July 2018

Published July 11, 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 © 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.

*

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

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

Red-Blooded American Propaganda

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.

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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.

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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.