1 June 2018

Published May 30, 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 © 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.

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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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.

PHOTO PROMPT submitted by Courtney Wright. © Photographer prefers to remain anonymous.

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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.

PHOTO PROMPT ©Jill Wisoff

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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.

Some Even Call it Poetry

Published May 7, 2018 by rochellewisoff

Many thanks to Marsha Gershun who, for the third year in a row has organized the CloudBursT at Beth Torah Synagogue in Overland Park, Kansas.

Martha Gershun

This was my second year to participate. Although, only a handful of us turned up, it was a lovely time to share our individual Jewish experience.

Two of my Hebrew students came to support me…Joy and Joie…so you could say it was a joyful experience. 😉 I wish I’d thought to take a picture of the two of them. Alas, I didn’t so you’ll have to take my word for it that they are two very lovely ladies.

Although I would love to have shared a few other readers, my husband’s smartphone could only take so much. So for your watching and listening (hopefully) pleasure, here’s my part of the program. My Friday Fictioneers and other Pegman participants will undoubtedly recognize these pieces.

4 May 2018

Published May 2, 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 © Karen Rawson

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

THIS HOT MADNESS

Benjamin shoved a notebook under his son’s nose. “What is this mishegoss?”

Although the boy had expected his father’s wrath, he trembled. “They’re my stories, Papa. I’ve decided to become a writer.”

“A sixteen-year-old child decides?” Benjamin shook his fist and thundered. “For this we send you to yeshiva?”

“I make straight A’s in Talmud class. Why can’t a rabbi write fiction, too?”

Benjamin flung the binder to the floor. “Frivolous nonsense!” Pages scattered like dry leaves.

***

In 1967, thirty-eight-year-old Chaim Potok marveled when his debut novel, The Chosen, became a NY Times best seller. “What would Papa say now?”

*

If you have 4 extra minutes and want to know more, CLICK HERE

27 April 2018

Published April 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 © Jan Wayne Fields

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

PARTNERS IN BOTANY

September 1880

Dearest Lemmonia,

I never dreamt I would meet such a marvelous botanical comrade. Two souls are we with one thought.

Where shall we honeymoon? I propose we journey to the far-off land of the Apaches in Arizona to explore new species of flora or even climb the Santa Catalinas. I await your reply, my love.

Forever yours,

Sara

***

Their guide, Emerson O. Stratton, later reminisced, “We christened the mountain Mt. Lemmon in her honor—the first white woman to reach the peak. There I chopped the bark off a great pine tree and we all carved our names.”

*One of the things we did on our vacation was to go up Mt. Lemmon. Amazingly, you start at the bottom with Saguaro Cacti and end up at the top amid Pine Trees. It’s when I learned that the mountain was named after this intriguing lady that my bit of fiction was born. So much story, so few words allowed. 😉

CLICK HERE TO KNOW MORE

13 April 2018

Published April 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.

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Week 2 of our road trip. Expect delays.

Please be considerate of the over 70 weekly participants and keep your stories to 100 words. Thank you.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

YING’S THING

David Kaminsky pressed his nose against the soot-covered window of the Brooklyn tenement. Then, bowing his head, he studied his bar mitzvah reading. “This Saturday, I’ll be a man.”

“You’ll always be my baby. Someday, you’ll sing. You’ll dance. Now drink your milk.”

______

“She was so proud of me that day,” he told his wife as he stirred peapods and chicken in a mammoth wok. Light limned his red hair and his mother’s wedding band on his pinkie.

“She would be proud of you this day, too,” said Sylvia Kaye. “There’s no better chef in the universe than my Danny.”

*Ying’s Thing was the name Danny Kaye gave his Chinese kitchen. Who nu? 😉

This multi-talented performer was one of the mainstays of my childhood. I confess that I borrowed his given name for a character in my third novel AS ONE MUST, ONE CAN.

To know more about Mr. Kaye, Click Here

And Here

Guess Blogger: Friday Fictioneers

Published April 9, 2018 by rochellewisoff

Many have read my story of my Friday Fictioneers beginnings before. For those who haven’t, my thanks to Phyllis for inviting me to do a guest blog.

Phyllis Moore MythRider

Friday Fictioneer is a weekly writing challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Field. She posts a photograph and the challenge is to write a 100 word short story.

I asked Rochelle if she’d like to give us the history of how she became involved and eventually the host of FF. Here is her story:

HERDING CATS

Six years ago, as a newly published author of a short story anthology, writing and rewriting my first novel, I didn’t have much of a direction for my blog. The few articles I posted were met with overwhelming disinterest.

One April day I noticed a Facebook post by someone named Madison Woods on the Ozarks Writers League page announcing the time had come for Friday Fictioneers. I found the title intriguing so I asked her about it.

She explained that every Wednesday she put up a photo and each participant was to insert it into…

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6 April 2018

Published April 4, 2018 by rochellewisoff

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MAKE. EVERY. WORD. COUNT.

***

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.

My weekly admonition to over 70 participants. Please keep your stories to 100 words or less. Thank you for your consideration.

Note: My comments and replies will probably be a bit delayed as we are starting out on a three week road trip from Kansas City to Los Angeles and back again. Looking forward to seeing friends, relatives and cuddling granddaughters. If you are in the Las Cruces, NM area on April 7, I will be doing a book signing at Coas Books on Main Street from 1:00-3:00

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

AFTER A FASHION

Shielding her eyes with her parasol, Emma peered at the merciless summer sun. Her pantaloons and stockings clung to her legs under her petticoats and crinoline.

Why aren’t boys corseted with whalebone and lace?

Her stiff collar chafed and perspiration drenched her thick hair beneath her bonnet. How she longed to strip down to her drawers like her brothers and dive into the nearby creek.

________

Denise studied a tintype she’d found in the attic. “Great-grandma Emma looks elegant, doesn’t she?”

“Ha! Looks more like she’s ready to faint.” Penny adjusted her swimsuit. “Come on, Sis, race you to the pool.”

*