28 November 2025

Published November 26, 2025 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

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This Friday, November 28, Jan and I will celebrate our 54th Wedding Anniversary so I took the easy route and wrote a little reflection.

Genre: Anecdote
Word Count: 100

DESTINY

The saying goes that hindsight is 20/20. In other words, if I’d only known then what I know now, would I tell the eighteen-year-old child bride to run?

And what if she’d listened?

Perhaps she would have married someone else—someone without the same rough edges—or fierce loyalty.

Would she trade three handsome sons for what might have been?

Silly questions change nothing.

I’m thankful for my children and the man I married fifty-four years ago. His smile warms my heart more now than it did when I walked down the aisle to him. Two became one. My destiny.

15 November 2024

Published November 13, 2024 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

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THE ANONYMOUS BATTLE RAGES ON!

Please, be a pal, and identify yourself in your comments. I kind of like to know to whom I’m replying to. Thank you. 😀

Genre: Hysterical Faction
Word Count: 100

HONEYMOON PHASE

I gave my parents a tour of the apartment and said, “Only $85.00 a month.”
Mom glared through tears at the black and red kitchen cabinets. “It’s a dump. You’re only eighteen. Please reconsider this.”

After our wedding, my husband and I moved into our first home—a four-room apartment in the attic of a turn-of-the-twentieth-century two-story brick house. The paper-thin walls allowed us to hear every word spoken by our pothead next door neighbors—usually uttered after midnight.

I could be a romantic and say that to us it seemed like a palace. Nah. It really was a dump.

This is the only picture we have that was taken inside the apartment. (December 1971) Sadly you can’t experience the end tables made of old barrels (speakers inside them) with cast-off marble tops. Between those was the green naugahide couch. Across from them was the portable black and white TV on rough board shelves propped up on cinder blocks.

Once satisfied that I wasn’t in a family way, our parents gave us six months….53 years ago. 😀

THERE IS LOVE

Published August 21, 2019 by rochellewisoff

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

For a good time, click me!

I’m back for seconds.

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

THERE IS LOVE

The organist played Paul Stookey’s “Wedding Song.”

Denise strolled toward Grant holding her father’s arm. Her round face shone. Grant’s heart raced. Why would such a beautiful woman choose him?

His best man Bart elbowed him. “Here comes the wide-track bride.”

“If you think so little of her, why’d you set us up?”

“She’s my sister. I felt sorry for her.”

Grant remembered how nervous he’d been until their fateful blind date when her periwinkle eyes and infectious laughter put him at ease.

He elbowed Bart. “Make one more wisecrack about my lovely wife and you’ll be my toothless brother-in-law.”

*

If you’ve never heard it, here’s your chance to hear Paul Stookey singing his Wedding Song

Weekend Writing Prompt – ANTIPATHY

Published August 3, 2019 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.

Word Prompt

This week my title factors into the word count.

ANTIPATHY IN LOVE

We are complete opposites. Most of our passions differ. Our friends and parents gave us six months, if that. Yet, after forty-eight years, my bed is his.

22 March 2019

Published March 20, 2019 by rochellewisoff

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PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

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Genre: Historical Fiction circa 1950

Word Count: 100

MOONS AND JUNES AND FERRIS WHEELS

Eighteen-year-old Tammy set the cake on the table. “Seventy-five candles, Grammy.”

Phoebe blew with all her might. “Wish James was here to celebrate with us.” Winded, she leaned back and shut her eyes. “We met in 1893. I was your age.

***

“May I sit here, Miss?”

Phoebe gazed into his startling blue eyes. “Certainly.”

“Think this contraption is safe?”

From their car at the top of the observation wheel, an unheard of 264 feet, she took in the whole fair. Heart pounding, she grasped his hand. He squeezed hers.

***

Tammy squeezed Phoebe’s stiff hand. “Give Gramps a kiss for me.”

For a little more about the Ferris Wheel CLICK HERE

The original Ferris Wheel at the Chicago Worlds Fair in 1893

PRICELESS

Published June 19, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman takes us to the Burj Khalifa in Dubai.

Feel free to stroll around the area 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:

For guidelines and rules for the What Pegman Saw weekly writing prompt, visit the home page.

Thanks to K Rawson and J Hardy Carroll for heading up this challenge, one that I can’t seem to avoid. 😉 I’m not even caught up on my Friday Fictioneers reading, commenting and replying.

The Gold Souk in Dubai

Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 150

PRICELESS

“Cash for your old gold,” boasted a reputable local jeweler.

He set up a table at the front of the grocery store where I worked as a cake designer. There he made his offer to employees and customers alike.

“Wish I had something to trade in, I could use the money,” said Maggie, my coworker. “You got anything?”

My husband is something of a jewelry junkie and bought some stunning gold pieces while stationed in Dubai during the Gulf War. Nothing I care to part with. My favorite is a simple heart ring, the symbol of storms we’ve weathered in our marriage.

“Nah, but I wonder what this is actually worth.”

Maggie took it and left the bakery. When she returned she tossed it on the counter. “It’s fake.”

Isn’t it sad that a “trained professional” didn’t recognize 24 carat gold?

Like my daddy used to say, “It’s always something.”

*

It’s rarely left my right index finger since December 1999. 24 carat gold is soft and easily bent. BUT it’s never turned my finger green.

14 December 2012

Published December 12, 2012 by rochellewisoff

WELCOME TO FRIDAY FICTIONEERS!

We are a growing global community of blogging writers founded by Madison Woods. Each week the challenge is to write a one hundred word flash fiction or a poem inspired by the photo prompt. The rules are as follows:

Please copy your URL to the Linkz collection. You’ll find the tab following the photo prompt. It’s the little white box to the left with the blue froggy guy. Click on it and follow directions. This is the best way to get the most reads and comments.
Please make sure your link works. If you find that you’ve made an error you can delete by clicking the little red ‘x’ that should appear under your icon. Then re-enter your URL. (If there’s no red x email me at Runtshell@aol.com. I can delete the wrong link for you).
If your blog requires multiple steps for visitors to leave comments, see if you can simplify it. Please, for the sake or our writerly nerves, disable CAPTCHA –that wavy line of unreadable letters and numbers. It’s frustrating to have to leave a DNA sample, your blood type and your shoe size just to make a comment. (So I exaggerate. But hopefully you get the picture).
Challenge yourself to keep stories to 100 words. (There’s no penalty for going over or under).
Make note in your blog if you’d prefer not to have constructive criticism.
Be kind in your comments to others. Please, exercise discretion.
My story follows the photo prompt for those who would rather write before reading other stories. I appreciate your comments and critiques. 😉
*NOTE-If you’re not posting a flash fiction, please DO NOT use this site or anyone else’s page for political platforms or advertisements.

Thanks to Doug MacIlroy for sharing the photo prompt this week.

Copyright -Douglas M. MacIlroy

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Submitted for your approval…or disapproval. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Although when my husband read it this morning he reminded me that we’re out of Cheerios. Read on, you’ll understand.

Happy Hanukkah to those amongst us of the Jewish persuasion. Good Yontiff or Hag Samayakh.

UNHOLY BONDS

Somewhere between “I do” and diapers Gavin’s winsome bride turned into a nattering, self-centered shrew. Everything he said or did she took as either an affront or lack of caring.

If he brought her flowers she accused him of seeing another woman. If he made overtures she accused him of treating her like a sex object.

Eventually he gave up trying to fix their relationship and escaped to his garage sanctuary.

One afternoon Lois stood over him, their three-year-old son in tow. “I’m leaving.”

“Pick up a quart of milk.”

“For good.”

He smiled. Peace at last!