Weekend Writing Prompt – Gargantuan

Published February 6, 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.

96 words might seem like a gargantuan task compared to some of Sammi’s recent word counts of fewer than 50. This one took me down Memory Lane once more. I think Sammi’s helping me write my memoires. 😉

Gargantuan described this 9 pound sweetheart. 😉

PREPARED

Carol Burnett compared giving birth to “taking your lower lip and forcing it over your head.”

My own assessment is that it’s like passing a gargantuan—

You get the idea.

Natural childbirth gained popularity in the 1970’s. My husband and I went to the classes. We learned the relaxation and breathing techniques to minimize—

Wait! We never referred to a contraction as a pain.

I took pride in watching my children make their appearances, fully awake and aware.

I’m still proud of this accomplishment. In retrospect I wish I could’ve been anesthetized through their teen years.

WEEKEND WRITING PROMPT – IMPERIOUS

Published January 25, 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.

TASKMASTER

Gazing out the window, she remembers the carefree days before her indenturing. Soft bed. Fresh linens. Stylish clothes.

The twinkling stars mock her and the man in the moon laughs in her face.

“I’m a slave to an imperious, self-centered, bald tyrant. He owns me. His every wish is my command. His every need is my assignment.”

She falls wearily into bed, hoping for a few hours of unfettered slumber. Drifting off, she dreams of parties, plays and concerts until a shrill demand shatters her peace.

“Coming master.”

She settles into a rocking chair and bundles her ten-pound taskmaster to her breast. Before latching, he flashes his first smile. Her pulse races “You own me, my son and I wouldn’t change a thing.”

*

©Rochelle Wisoff-Fields – The baby in this picture is actually a girl and she is me. 😉

WEEKEND WRITING PROMPT – ULTIMATUM

Published September 28, 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.

These word prompts seem to dredge up memories for me. Not sure why.

STALEMATE

Midnight rendezvous, filled with frustration and weeping defined our relationship in the beginning.

Weeks turned into years. I despaired of ever winning an argument, so skilled was he at manipulation. I couldn’t deny those deep-brown eyes. They’d captured my heart and held me captive.

Finally, I delivered an ultimatum to my beloved adversary. “Pick up your toys or no Sesame Street!”

*

Those brown eyes still hold me captive. 😉

13 September 2019

Published September 11, 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 © CEAyr

Frog delightfully rendered by Keith Hillman

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

MOTHER’S DAY

“Can I wake up?”

“Not now, Evan.” Rosemary yanked off her glasses and glared at her four-year-old son. “Can’t Mommy have five minutes to herself?”

His brown eyes welled. “I need a hug.”

Setting her book aside, she heaved an exasperated sigh. “I need your nap.”

He climbed up on her lap and pressed his soft cheek against hers. In that moment she imagined him as a grown man with a prickly beard. She tightened her arms around him and gave him a loud smooch.

He giggled. “Do you still want me to go away, Mommy?”

“Yes. Go away closer.”

WEEKEND WRITING PROMPT – IMPERVIOUS

Published March 24, 2019 by rochellewisoff

The challenge is simple: each week you will be given an exact number of words you can use to write a poem or piece of prose. You can use any format or style you like; go wherever your inspiration takes you.

Thank you, Sammi

Does the name Kenner ring a bell? If you grew up—or had a child—between 1960 and 2000 it should.

Remember Stretch Armstrong? You could tie him in knots, stomp on him and extend his body from Kansas City to St. Louis. What Kenner advertisers never bothered to tell you was how the impervious super hero didn’t stand a chance against a four-year-old boy and his comrade.

I’m not sure how the indestructible paladin met his Waterloo. I can only tell you what it’s like to scrape ten pounds of gooey innards from the basement floor. R.I.P., Stretch.

FURROWED

Published January 19, 2019 by rochellewisoff

Once more I’m participating in Weekend Writing Prompt. For instructions on how to join the fun, click HERE. Thank you, Sammi, for something different to challenge and fire the imagination. Today’s mother’s reflection is brought to you by the word:

Do you believe in love at first sight?

I do.

I believed it then.

I believe it now.

When you curled your tiny fingers around mine

You furrowed an unfathomable trench in my heart

That has only deepened with time.

This was taken several winters ago when school was called on account of snow.

24 August 2018

Published August 22, 2018 by rochellewisoff

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Please be considerate of 70 or more participants and keep your story to 100 words. Thank you.

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 © Carla Bicomong

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Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

WHAT A GREAT LIFE IT MUST SEEM

“You’re such a success, Elise.” says Mary. “I’m jealous.”

“You got it all, girlfriend,” Barbara adds. “You’re a published author and an artist? If I could do what you do, I’d truly be happy.”

Her compliment is coupled with a longing gaze at Elise’s recently finished seascape.

A mixture of pride and something other than joy floods Elise as her admirers kiss her cheek and leave. She sinks to her knees under the weight of her adult daughter’s scathing words, spewed in anger the night before. Her accusations haunt Elise and reduce her to ash.

“I’m such a failure.”

17 April 2015

Published April 15, 2015 by rochellewisoff

The next photo is the PHOTO PROMPT. There’s a lot to see. Does it ignite a story for you. Tell us in a hundred words or less.

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

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Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

MOTHER GOOSE

My doctor called it postpartum depression and assured me it was normal, but I knew better. I resented my son Daniel for what he was not. I wanted sugar and spice. Instead I got snips and snails.

One night, after putting the baby to bed, I turned on the television and came across a promotion for flame retardant pajamas. Graphic images of once handsome children, burned and scarred beyond recognition, seared through me.

“What’s wrong with me?” I bolted from the sofa to the nursery, gathered Daniel into my arms, inhaled his sweetness and whispered, “I love puppy dog tails.”

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

21 February 2014

Published February 19, 2014 by rochellewisoff

WELCOME TO FRIDAY FICTIONEERS!

Seize the opportunity to free your muse and allow her take you on a magic carpet ride.

Henry David Thoreau said it best.

“It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.”

THE CHALLENGE:

Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end. (No one will be ostracized for going a few words over the count.)

THE KEY:

MAKE – EVERY – WORD – COUNT

THE RULES:

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.
MAKE SURE YOUR LINK IS SPECIFIC TO YOUR FLASH.
While our name implies “fiction only” it’s perfectly Kosher to write a non-fiction piece as long as it meets the challenge of being a complete story in 100 words.
- ***PLEASE MAKE NOTE IN YOUR BLOG IF YOU PREFER NOT TO RECEIVE CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM.***
- REMINDER: This page is “FRIDAY FICTIONEERS CENTRAL” and is NOT the place to promote political or religious views. Also, you are responsible for the content of your story and policing comments on your blog. You have the right to delete any you consider offensive.
**Please exercise DISCRETION when commenting on a story! Be RESPECTFUL.**

Should someone have severe or hostile differences of opinion with another person it’s my hope that the involved parties would settle their disputes in private.
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My story follows the photo and link tool. I enjoy honest comments and welcome constructive criticism.
Shalom,

Rochelle

Copyright – David Stewart

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As of 20 February the consensus is that my Genre is Horror 😉

Word Count: 98

BELLING THE CAT

Undaunted by the prospect of childbirth and motherhood, the epitome of idealistic youth, I cheerfully welcomed the task ahead. I’d show everyone how it’s done. What could possibly go wrong?

After an excruciating and humbling thirty-six hour labor and breech birth, Mara, my 8 pound lioness, roared forth into the world.

From infancy to puberty, she has marked her territory well.

Light glints off my sixteen-year-old’s silver nose-ring and gaudy orange-dyed mane. I cringe like cornered prey when she growls and dangles my car keys from her black-nailed fingers.

“Mo-om, you promised to start my driving lessons today.”

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Belling_the_cat

30 November 2012

Published November 28, 2012 by rochellewisoff

Ready or not, here it comes the holiday season is upon us and I’m not at all prepared. On the upside this is my sixth week as facilitator for this wonderful group of blogging authors.

As this page goes live it’s November 28, the dawn of my 41st wedding anniversary. (No. This isn’t this week’s photo prompt 😉 )

Now that you’ve oo’d and ah’d over my vintage wedding picture here are the “rules”:

Depending on your preference, leave your blog link in the comment section or use the linkz tool (or both ;)). My story follows for those who’d rather not read it before writing their own.
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. Exercise discretion.
ABOVE ALL–HAVE FUN
Copyright-Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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Many thanks for all the well wishing on our anniversary. As always, Jan sent roses to the restaurant. I have to kvell. My husband’s an incurable romantic and hasn’t missed a November 28th in all these years.

Now without further adieu, here’s my story.

LAYAWAY

“One more cheesy rendition of Jingle Bells and I’m outta here.”

After seven hours of checking out surly customers on swollen feet Carla’s holiday spirit reached its lowest ebb. As she slammed her register drawer a burst of warm fluid soaked her pants.

An associate helped her to a pallet on the dressing room floor. Another called 911.

A hard contraction sent pain-waves through her spine. The paramedic spread her legs and shoved his hand between them.

“Ten centimeters.”

Carla pushed.

“It’s a boy!”

The overhead speakers blared with Burl Ives singing.

“Jingle bells, jingle bells. Jingle all the way…”