Holocaust

All posts tagged Holocaust

22 November 2019

Published November 20, 2019 by rochellewisoff

Like us on Facebook 

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

CLICK ON THE FROG TO JOIN

Before beginning my rather somber story, I have some happy news. My WIP entitled “What the Heart Wants” is under contract with agent Diane Nine of Nine Speakers, Inc. To read more about it click here

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

PROJECT PINK

Dedrick intertwined his fingers with Levin’s long slender ones and stared at the ragged nails worn down by hauling stones from the quarry. Dedrick remembered winter nights when those elegant hands, never meant for such cruel labor, prepared succulent meals that would delight a king.

            Levin’s hoarse voice brought him back to Auschwitz. “Dedrick, I—”

            Dedrick pressed his finger against Levin’s chapped lips. “Save your strength.”

            Bruises marred Levin’s flawless complexion. One long-lashed eye had swollen shut. He reached out and touched the pink triangle on Dedrick’s striped uniform. “You must know…”

            Kissing Levin’s palm, Dedrick whispered, “I do.”

For more on this lesser known atrocity CLICK HERE

TODAY I AM A MAN

Published September 25, 2019 by rochellewisoff

PHOTO PROMPT © Na’ama Yehuda

Frog delightfully rendered by Keith Hillman

I hope you’ll forgive me for double dipping today.  I couldn’t help myself. 😉  

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

TODAY I AM A MAN

“This is stupid.” Twelve-year-old Leon fumed. “Why do I have to do a dumb old Bar Mitzvah?”  

            “Stupid is it?” Zaydeh’s faded eyes brimmed. “It could save your life.”

            Leon braced himself.

            “I stuck by Papa in the men’s line until a guard forced me to go with the boys. But I would have none of it.”

            “What did you do?”

            “I went back to the men.”

            “You were only thirteen.”

            “I told the guard I am Bar Mitzvah. A man according to Halakha. Papa and I survived the camp in the men’s barracks. The boys? Straight to the ovens.”

23 November 2018

Published November 21, 2018 by rochellewisoff

 

Fun times with Russell Gayer at Ozarks Writers League Conference. November 17, 2018 (Not the prompt 😉 )

Like us on Facebook 

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 © Dale Rogerson (Many thanks for the gracious loan of your photo. 😉

get the InLinkz code

Genre: Historical Fiction based on an actual survivor’s account.

Word Count: 100

PERSPECTIVES

Holding her granddaughter’s hand, Marta shut her eyes. “Doesn’t the water make a beautiful sound?”

            Barely six, Segol fidgeted beside her. “It’s just water, Savta.”

            “No. It sings the song of eternity.” Opening her eyes, Marta pointed to Segol’s new dress. “Your ema tells me you couldn’t decide between this blue one or the green one. She said you cried and cried.”

            Segol hung her head and muttered. “Yes.”

            “Such a choice. When I was six, I had to make a choice, too. Should I go with my mother to Auschwitz or flee to the convent? I cried and cried.”

***

Happy Thanksgiving this week to my American friends. I thought of reposting this story I shared 3 years ago. It’s a different perspective re Thanksgiving. The story is called “Keshagesh” which is a Cree word for “Greedy Guts.” Since many of you read and commented on it then, I’m just posting the link for the curious. https://rochellewisoff.com/2015/11/25/27-november-2015/

 

 

 

IF THY RIGHT HAND OFFEND THEE

Published July 29, 2018 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman takes us to Kinshasa, in the Democratic Republic of the Congo.

Your mission is to write up to 150 words inspired by the location. Feel free to use the image provided in the prompt, or chose from photo spheres around Kinshasa. Once your piece is polished, share it with others using the linkup below.

Many thanks to Karen and Josh for facilitating this challenge for globetrotting writers. It’s the extra 50 words that keep me coming back. 😉

Remember – Reading and commenting on others’ work is part of the fun!

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

IF THY RIGHT HAND OFFEND THEE

                                                                        August 12, 1896

Ma chérie,

I signed on for the Congo, eager to serve Leopold—to civilize the savage.  

I hold your face in my heart—the celestial blue of your eyes, the curve of your fair cheek and sweetness of your lips. But this vision is no longer enough to sustain me. Forgive, my love, another face has replaced yours. It is magnificent. Brown with midnight eyes. Every whit as handsome as our own Francois and no older.

I followed orders. I lopped off his right hand for not meeting our rubber quotas. What kind of savage does this to another human being?

________

Upon entering the tent, Andre dropped to his knees. “Dear God!”

Louis tutted and pulled a blanket over their fallen comrade.  “Why on earth did Thomas take his own life?”

Picking up a blood-spattered hatchet, Andre shuddered. “And how could he chop off his own hand?”

 

In 1896, a German journalist reported that 1,308 hands were collected in one day.

CLick HERE to watch the disturbing documentary.

18 May 2018

Published May 16, 2018 by rochellewisoff

Like us on Facebook 

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.

get the InLinkz code

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.

*

*

*

POETIC INJUSTICE

Published January 22, 2017 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman has gone to Moscow. Many thanks to K Lawson for graciously hosting. To choose your own photo click here. Write your own flash fiction of 150 words or less. Click the blue frog to add your own link.

Here’s the photo I chose:

moscow-street

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

POETIC INJUSTICE

           “I adored the stage,” said Bubbe Gittel of her time in the Moscow State Jewish Theater. “I had a crush on the director, Shlomo Mikhoels. What a performer he was!”  

            I switched off the TV. My grandmother’s stories beat summer reruns. Even in her 80’s she could still recite Shakespeare—in Yiddish.

            “During the war Mr. Stalin kept us safe from Hitler and made Shlomo the head of the Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee. The show would always go on. So I thought.”

            Bubbe’s smile faded. “The war ended and with it, Stalin’s favor.”

            “What happened, Bubbe?”

            “They called it an accident, but I saw it with my own eyes. A KGB monster shoved Shlomo in the path of a speeding truck. Other members of the committee were arrested for treason—poets and writers they were. Four years later, they were executed. Their real crime? We know what that was, don’t we?”

.

.

Click for Encore

solomon-mikhoels

 

13 January 2017

Published January 11, 2017 by rochellewisoff

 

Friday Fictioneers Farm Path

Like us on Facebook

Our Mantra

Flowers from the Hill Thoreau

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 © C.E. Ayr

PHOTO PROMPT © C.E. Ayr

get the InLinkz code

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

THE HEAVIEST WHEEL ROLLS ACROSS OUR FOREHEADS

            When I was a little girl in the 1950’s, Mom used to take me to visit my aunt in St. Louis. I looked forward to those train rides. Sunlight dazzled through the trees as they whizzed by and the rhythm of the wheels clicking along the track soothed me.

            Dad, on the other hand, hated trains, but would never tell me why. Only once did he accompany us.

            As we left Union Station, tears trickled from the corners of his faraway eyes.   

            “Daddy, what’s wrong?”

            “The stench was unbearable. Fifty of us crammed into a cattle car. I alone escaped.”

.

.

death-train

Kelvin M. Knight

FLASHES of inspiration. SHORT deliberations. STORIES for all.

Na'ama Yehuda

Speech Language Pathologist, Writer, Blogger -- musings, anecdotes, stories, quotes, life lessons and growth

Diane's Ponderings

Psalm 19:1 The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.

Jellico's Writing Nook

A cup of coffee and a quiet morning respite to write

The Ministry of Shrawley Walks

4 Folk, Walking the Dogs

Penz-o-Paula

Paula Shablo

Lost Imperfect Found

Self-discovery through self-reflection.

Sarah Potter Writes

Pursued by the Muses of prose and poetry

Sammi Cox

Author Aspiring

Neil MacDonald Author

A writer's journey

Autumn Leaves

For those who enjoy fiction

Native Heritage Project

Documenting the Ancestors

Living In Eternity

If Eternity Is Forever, Am I There Now?

Rereading Jane Eyre

Author Luccia Gray

zicharonot

Catskills Memories, Genealogy, travel and commentary

e.l. dalke: survivor

a journey of fractures, in my own words

Creativity for You

Posts about creativity from Thomas Ward, Professor Emeritus of Psychology, University of Alabama.

WHAT PEGMAN SAW

a weekly flash fiction prompt inspired by google maps

Lori Ericson, Author

An author's perspective of mystery and more.

Alyssa Davies

You Can Never Be Overdressed or Overeducated

Write already!

Write, write, write...

The Off Key Of Life

Or….Identifying The Harmless Unhinged Among Us.

What's So Funny?

Russell Gayer, author speaker

%d bloggers like this: