generations

All posts tagged generations

Weekend Writing Prompt – Impact

Published August 22, 2020 by rochellewisoff

A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend.  How you use the prompt is up to you.  Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like.  Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise.  If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in Sammi’s Comment Section.

Once more this prompt took me down Memory Lane. Whether deserved or not, my Aunt Edith was a legend in our house. Hers was my first experience with the death of a loved one. 

L’DOR V’DOR*

When I was eight Aunt Edith passed away. My mother’s sister lived in the house behind ours.

Memories. Faded impressions. Passover seders at Grandpa’s. A gold demitasse cup she kept just for me. The prayer book I wish I’d kept.  I’ve searched for it online. Out of print.

 I still remember my aunt’s attempts to teach me manners. “Ladies say ‘yes’ not ‘yeah.’”

She made an impact.

*From generation to generation.

My mother is the short lady on the left. Aunt Edith is the bride. Sometime in the late 1930’s or early 1940’s.

SPIRIT OF LOVE

Published April 5, 2020 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman heads west to the quaintly-named Happy Jack, Arizona. Your mission as always is to use the photosphere/street view part of Google Maps to wander around and find something that inspires you to write up to 150 words, then post your work to the InLinkz below. Reading and commenting on other stories is part of the experience, so you won’t want to miss out! Do you best, and have fun!

inlinkz frog

I didn’t really have a clue until this morning what to write. On the other hand, I needed a diversion and it’s not like I have anywhere special to go. Many thanks to Josh and Karen (Good to see you back!) for hosting the challenge. 

Such a peaceful setting. I would love to be there right now.

 

Genre: Historical Fiction

(I imagine this to take place before the Conquistadors. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. 😉 )

Word Count: 150

SPIRIT OF LOVE

During her eighteenth summer Sicheii told Johona he had given her to Kai, a man from another Diné clan. In her anger, she stomped her feet and wailed, beating the air with her fists. “I don’t want a man.”

“My decision is made. Kai is a dependable man,” her grandfather told her. “He will give you a home and many children.”

The Spirit had not blessed Kai with good looks. His nose was too big and his eyebrows too thick. Johona wept bitterly on their marriage night and refused to share her bed with him.

Kai did not force her.  “My hogan is yours. I’ll wait. “He flashed a crooked-toothed smile.

Two summers later, Johona gave thanks to Mother Earth at the ceremony celebrating her son’s first laugh. She rested her head on Kai’s broad chest.

“This child brings joy!” Sicheii proclaimed

“And,” Johona beamed, “he’s handsome like his father.”

 

*Sicheii is Navajo for Grandfather

Parents, remember your baby’s first laugh? What a sweet sound. Imagine a ceremony to celebrate it? How beautiful is that? When I read about it, I had to write about it. 😀

CLICK HERE TO KNOW MORE

 

BIRTHRIGHT

Published August 26, 2018 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman is in Resolute, NU, Canada. Your mission is to write up to 150 words inspired by the location. Feel free to use the image supplied in the prompt or snag your own. Both streetview and photospheres are available in this location.

Once your piece is polished, you can share it with others using the linkup below. Reading and commenting on others’ stories is part of the fun.

In pursuance of a story this morning, I ended up south of Resolute, although still in Nunavut. Thanks as always to Karen and Josh for facilitating this blog challenge. 

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 150

BIRTHRIGHT

“You hold the pencil like this.” I imagine Napachie guiding her daughter’s tiny hand. “Draw what you see.”  

            I watch Annie draw a face on the paper and smile up at her mother. “I want to be an artist like you when I grow up, Anaana.

            Perhaps Napachie Pootoogook’s heart swelled with pride. “And like your grandmother Pitseolak Ashoona.”  

             

            Did fame destroy the child who became an internationally acclaimed artist? Her boyfriend claims she’d disappear for days to drink. Others say she feared him. Did he murder her? Or did it happen as the chief investigator told reporters?

            “…could be suicide, accidental, she got drunk and fell in the river and drowned…much of the Aboriginal population in Canada is just satisfied being alcohol and drug abusers.”

            What would she say?  

            Her depictions are courageous and straight forward. Although her pencils lay still and bereft, deep calls to deep. Annie speaks to me.

To know a little more CLICK here.

 

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