Jewish Fiction

All posts tagged Jewish Fiction

15 March 2019

Published March 13, 2019 by rochellewisoff

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The following photo is the PROMPT. It is proper etiquette to give credit where credit is due. Thank you.

PHOTO PROMPT © Anshu Bhojnagarwala

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The following is a snippet from my books AS ONE MUST ONE CAN and A STONE FOR THE JOURNEY. Rachel is a favorite character of mine. Perhaps I’ll write a novel about her in the future. At the very least, a short story. 😉

Genre: Historical Fiction circa 1907

Word Count! 100

SHORTSIGHTED 

Miss Kline glanced at three-year-old Rachel and back at Havah. “She’s—”

            “Blind.” Rachel grinned. “I don’t have floppy nerves.”

            “Optic nerves,” said Havah.

            “May I play piano for Miss Kline, Mommy?”

            “Play something pretty.”

            Rachel’s dog led her to the upright piano and lay down next to it so Rachel could use her for a step stool.

            “Surely you don’t allow her to bang on that lovely instrument,” whispered Miss Kline.

            Havah smiled but said nothing. Rachel danced her tiny fingers across the keys.

            Miss Kline clapped her hand over her mouth. “Bless my soul, it’s… it’s… Bach’s ‘Musette’!”

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WHO CAN FIND A VIRTUOUS WOMAN?

Published July 22, 2018 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman takes us to Melbourne, Australia. Feel free to use the photo provided in the prompt, or seek out your own using Google’s street view or photo spheres.

Your mission: write up to 150 words inspired by the location. Once your piece is polished, feel free to share it with others using the link up below. Or, if you don’t have a blog to link to, you’re invited to post your story in the comments of this post.

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

Adass Israel School in Melbourne

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 150

WHO CAN FIND A VIRTUOUS WOMAN?

Tonight Mama locked me in the cupboard under the stairs. “Beyz meydl! Evil girl!” I could hear her rant all the way down the hallway. “What dybbik enticed you to venture outside the safe confines of Adass Israel? Ours is a sacred community.”  

I only went to a bookstore in Melbourne. I want to read novels that don’t have half the sentences marked out. Why is this so wrong?

I hate the dark. When I’m there I see my principal’s hands. I can still feel them touching me under my blouse and skirt. She claims she’s performing a mitzvah and preparing me for marriage. Sometimes I think she might be the only person who has ever loved me. Other times I’m not so sure. If this is a good thing, why does Mrs. Leifer always close the door and lower the blinds? Why do I feel disgusting and rotten inside?

*

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Malka Leifer

JUSTICE AT LAST (Click to read about it) 

26 May 2017

Published May 24, 2017 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 © J Hardy Carroll

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Genre: Historical Fiction-Book Excerpt

Word Count: 100

JESUS WEPT

            Broken glass, paper and other debris littered the once cheerful apartment. The prophet Jeremiah’s words swirled through Ulrich’s mind like a hollow wind.

            “A voice was heard in Ramah…

            …Rachel weeping for her children…”

            Dim light from his lantern cast macabre shadows on the spattered walls. He gazed at the children’s battered faces and twisted forms. What could reduce men to such bestial acts?

            His stomach shuddered and emptied itself. He wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve.  “You bloody bastards! Christ died for you and you use Him as an excuse for your bloodletting! Why? Why? Why?”

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 *Note: The title is John 11:35, the shortest verse in the New Testament and reflects Ulrich Dietrich’s beliefs. Ulrich is a Christian gentleman who is outraged that innocent people would be murdered in the name of his Lord.  

 

CAST FROM HER FATHER’S HOUSE

Published May 15, 2017 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman takes us to Cirque de Navacelles, France. This week’s location was suggested by JS Brand.

Many thanks to K Rawson and J Hardy Carroll for hosting this unique challenge. 

Feel free to stroll around using the Google street view and grab any picture you choose to include in your post.

To enjoy stories inspired by the What Pegman Saw prompt or to submit your own 150-word story, visit the inLinkz button:

This challenge has become a favorite of mine and I couldn’t bear to miss it this week. This weekend has been an incredibly busy one. And as I’m working toward Book Four of my trilogy (coffee table companion book of illustrations and character studies), I hope you’ll forgive my posting an excerpt from my first novel PLEASE SAY KADDISH FOR ME. 

While the photo I chose is in Cirque de Navacelles, my story is not.

Genre: Novel Excerpt

Word Count: 149

CAST FROM HER FATHER’S HOUSE

            Rocks, frozen grass and thorns stabbed the soles of her bare feet. There had been no time for shoes, no time to dress. 

            Who would pray for their souls? Who would remember David, the artist or Mendel, the poet or Mama or Papa?  She forced her heavy mouth to shape the Hebrew prayer—Kaddish—prayer for the dead and prayer for the bereft.

            “‘Magnified and sanctified is your great Name…’”

            Havah Cohen detested its beauty. Her hands, held over her ears, could not blot out the anguished cries of friends and neighbors, fast becoming memories.

            “‘…in the world which you have created…’”

            Thorns grabbed at her nightgown and she fought to ignore the fire in her lungs. “‘…according to Your will.’”

            Run. 

            Brambles ripped into her flesh.

            Run. 

            The muscles of her legs burned. 

            Don’t stop. Run.

            “‘Let His great name be blessed forever and to all eternity.’”

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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