Weekend Writing Prompt – Smuggle

Published December 12, 2021 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. Thanks for the challenge, Sammi!

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
One of my therapists suggested I illustrate my feelings during this particularly ugly and potentially lethal time in my life.

CIRCLES IN THE SPIRAL

Denise and I used aspirin to punish our hungry stomachs. Did you know you can get high on mega doses of plain old Bayer? Or that you could be addicted to them?

Once when she was in treatment, I smuggled the contraband in a baggie in my large Diet Coke.

Oh, we had lots of tricks up our sleeves next to our boney arms.

Killer ideas.

**Not one of my prouder moments. Denise wasn’t her name and I’m not sure if she’s still alive. 😦

10 July 2020

Published July 8, 2020 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 @ A. Noni Mouse

Click the dancing frog to join the fun.

Genre: Hysterical Fiction

Word Count: 100

I REST MY CASE

My son slept on a mattress on the floor. Dirty glasses and plates with mold enough to save the planet from infection littered his room. Filthy clothes and towels covered the bed.

I fumed. “You could hide a body in this room.”

One morning I went to wake him for work. No Evan. I even called his friends.

My heart thrashed at red smears on my white cabinets.

Before I could call the police, Evan entered the kitchen. “Mo-om, why didn’t you wake me? Oh, sorry about the spaghetti sauce.”

“Told you. You can hide a body in that room.”

Weekend Writing Prompt – Unwelcome

Published June 27, 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.

QUARANTINE

“It itches, Mommy.” My feverish two-year-old pointed to a cluster of blisters on his chest. “Make it stop.”

“Sesame Street Live is out of the question.”

“But I’m not sick.” Six-year-old Simon whined. “It’s all Trevor’s fault.”

“Pretty sure it’s Chicken Pox,” I told Margo, the company secretary. “It’s making the rounds at daycare.”

Fortunately, Trevor had a mild case. An easy week—alas, without pay.

Fourteen days after Trevor’s outbreak, Simon woke with a bumper crop of unwelcome lesions.

Covered from stem to stern, Simon whined. “It’s all Trevor’s fault.”

***

30 August 2019

Published August 28, 2019 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 © Linda Kreger

CLICK ON FROGGY AND HOP ABOARD

Genre: Hysterical Faction

Word Count: 100

ERAT CHIROGRAPHUM DECRETI

For Jeffrey, trying to learn Latin was somewhat akin to pushing a cart sideways—uphill. Verb tenses made him tense. Nouns didn’t compute.

He stared at his teacher’s one word comment scrawled across his most recent quiz. “Mr. Bland, what does ‘tennible’ mean?”

Mr. Bland leaned back in his chair. “Let’s explore the Latin roots. ‘To have. To hold.’ Teneo, I have. Tenet, you have…from that root we arrive at ‘tenable—capable of being held.’”

Jeffrey presented his paper. “Why did you write it on my test?”

Taking it from the boy, Mr. Bland frowned. “That’s not tenable. That’s ‘terrible.’”

My brother Jeffrey and his wife Debbie.

*The title is Latin for Handwriting. The story itself is not my own, but my brother’s. It was too good not to share.

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.

Weekend Writing Prompt – Glacial

Published June 15, 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.

Thank you for the challenge, Sammi.

Older moms cautioned me about wishing my babies’ lives away.

“Rock them. Enjoy every moment.”

Caught up in colic, teething, followed by the ‘terrible two’s,’ their words of wisdom fell on deaf and weary ears.

As my boys grew, they bickered and teased. The days seemed to plod at a glacial pace.

Now they’re grown men, living their lives far away.

Where did the time go?

Travis and his daughter Olive

Christian

Weekend Writing Prompt – Mercurial

Published June 1, 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. To join leave your link in Sammi’s comment section.

After forty-five years I miss your mercurial personality. Remember our lively battles of wits, Jerry—all those ornery barbs we lobbed back and forth? I wish you were still here so I could say them all over again.

*My husband’s brother, Jerry, died in a car accident when he was in the Air Force, stationed in Turkey in 1974. He was one of the funniest, sharpest people I have ever known.

WOODSMOKE AT TWILIGHT

Published March 4, 2018 by rochellewisoff

There is a road some fifty-three miles NNE of New York City with a strange reputation. This week, Pegman has stranded you there.Volumes have been written about Clinton Road in West Milford, NJ, but you only need to write 150 words. The only limit is your imagination.Feel free to capture your own streetview. If you’re not up to a weird tale, feel free to wander anywhere within the state of New Jersey for your story.Once your 150 words are polished, you can share with other contributors using the Linkup below. Reading and commenting on others’ work is part of the fun!

Many thanks to Karen and Josh for hosting this challenge that gives me 50 more words to play with. 😉

While the photo below is taken from the Pegman Buffet, I must confess, despite the directives, I didn’t stay in New Jersey. I went to Rickey Road in Raytown, Missouri, where, as with Clinton Road, the stories abound.

Genre: Fictionalized Memoir

Word Count: 150

WOODSMOKE AT TWILIGHT

I looked forward to my troop’s wilderness excursions. Had it not been for scouting, I might never have seen the great outdoors beyond my backyard. My parents, while not religiously observant, adhered to the eleventh commandment—“Jews don’t camp.”

Overnights were the best. Following an afternoon of dodging poison ivy and climbing hills, we’d gather around the campfire. Our mouths and fingers gooey from roasted marshmallows, we topped off the day with ghost stories about the infamous and spooky Rickey Road.

“My uncle found a man’s head in the grass,” said Lucy in a loud whisper.

“Ooooooo,” we’d giggle. “Gross!”

Margo’s cheeks glowed in the blaze. “It opened its eyes and screamed, ‘I want my golden arm!’”

Our childish imaginations kicked into overdrive. Each storyteller sought to outdo the last.

Back home in my own bed, I wouldn’t sleep for a month without a nightlight.

I miss those good times.

*********

Troop 499-Can you find me?

14 April 2017

Published April 12, 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.

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Please be considerate and try to keep your story to 100 words. Thank you..

Genre: Anecdote

Word Count: 100

HAND-TOSSED

Monticello, a town in Upstate New York, is where we spent the summer of 1965, the last summer of my childhood, with my aunt and uncle. Having never traveled far from Kansas City, this was the adventure of my eleven-going-on-twelve-year-old lifetime.

Unlike KC, restaurants like the pizzeria where I had my first ever, true pizza, stayed open all night.

My brother handed me the red pepper. “Try this.”

Aunt Lu scowled. “Go easy, Rochelle.”

Did I listen?

Although the gooey cheese and sauce melted in my mouth, the pepper burned all the way down—and all the way back up.

21 October 2016

Published October 19, 2016 by rochellewisoff

ANNOUNCING GREAT NEWS!!!

Alicia Jamtaas has been published! Her short story, “A Private Death” has been included in the fall issue of “Sweet Tree Review.” Way to go Alicia!

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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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Genre: Anecdote

Word Count: 100

PENNY-ANTE

Sunday was “Fan Tan” night when I was eight. My family played the card game for pennies.

“Where’s that seven of hearts?” Dad tossed a copper on the table with mock disgust. “Shelly? You only have one card left?”

“The little brat’s got it,” said my fourteen-year-old brother pitching his coin.

I batted my eyelashes. “Why, Jeffrey, whatever do you mean?” With a dramatic flourish, I laid down the seven. “I win!”

It’s not the victories I remember as much as the unprecedented peace between my parents, my father’s relentless teasing, and laughing so hard I nearly wet my pants.

.