All posts tagged Racism

Weekend Writing Prompt – Wanton

Published May 15, 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.

Future Friday Fictioneers Queen 😉

I’m calling this fiction with a side of truth. There are those who have suffered unjustly and then…


“I never fit in,” she claims through crocodile tears, “because of my color.”

She bemoans her traumatic youth on social media to garner sympathy and hurls wanton accusations.

“You didn’t know me.” She whines.

Did she know me? No way. She was out of my league.

And now she expects me to pity Ms Pretty Popular Prom Queen?

No way.

30 April 2021

Published April 28, 2021 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 © Dale Rogerson

Click the floating frog to join. 

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100


“I’m so glad the waters are finally receding.” Myrtle smoothed her blonde hair with one hand while sipping her lemonade. “It’s been an awful year, hasn’t it?”

Geraldine crunched an ice chip, savoring the cold on her tongue. “Dreadful. Just dreadful.”

“Daddy says he’s not sure how we will ever recover our losses.” Tears trickled from Myrtle’s blue eyes. “Momma’s carpets were washed away, Grandma’s china shattered and my best frocks are simply ruined.”

“Bless your heart. Why, I hear tell all our farmhands went north. Can you believe those selfish darkies deserted us in our hour of need?”




We don’t always like the characters we write, do we? I hope my story made you angry. 

CLICK for more Info.

2 June 2017

Published May 31, 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.



Please be considerate and keep your flash fiction to 100 words. Thank you. 

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100


           “Love that forgives is our theme,” said Carole.

            Addie, tall for fourteen, Denise, the dress-up princess, Cynthia, and Carole, the Girl Scout who had earned every known badge, prepared for the youth service. I envied them as they tied each other’s sashes. I was only four, too young to participate.

            Cynthia’s dark eyes sparkled. “How many times should we forgive?”

            Her smile illuminating the Birmingham church basement, Addie, winked at me. “Seventy times seven.”  

            Moments later, the Grand Dragon spewed fire and brimstone. Time halted at 10:22 that September Sunday morning in 1963. Eternity claimed four angels.  

            I cannot forgive.




“I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear.” Martin Luther King, Jr.

10 April 2015

Published April 8, 2015 by rochellewisoff

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 The following PHOTO is the PROMPT. Where does your mind travel? Take us there in a hundred words or less. 

My story follows the prompt and the link frog. I welcome honest comments and crit.


Dear Friday Fictioneers,

Some of you may have noticed a lack of my comments and replies last week. My editor and I have been up to our eyeballs in novel edits. I hope to catch up soon. Thank you for your patience and understanding. 

A heartfelt thanks to my editor and friend for sacrificing his time to help me untwist, un-hyphenate and smooth out the rough edges of the soon-to-be published PLEASE SAY KADDISH FOR ME. 




PHOTO PROMPT – © Jennifer Pendergast

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Gere: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100


My dearest Zhilan,

            This night my thoughts turn toward home and you. I cherish the times we invited the moon to join us as we shared rice wine. Remember how we dreamed I would find Gold Mountain?

            Now my journey is hard and my days are filled with the pickaxe and train tracks. Never will I see you again, my fragrant orchid, nor our precious son…


            “Fever musta took him.” Levi knelt beside the body and pried a piece of crumpled paper from its stiff hand. “Whatcha make a this?”

            Orville squinted and shrugged. “Jest some ignorant Chinee scribbles.”








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