2 May 2014

Published April 30, 2014 by rochellewisoff

Thanks to Janet Webb for the message and design.

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.

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😉 My story follows the PHOTO PROMPT below and link tool. I enjoy honest comments and welcome constructive criticism. 😀
PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Renee Heath

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

ALL THAT WAS LEFT OF THEM

“Tell me about the glorious charge of the Light Brigade, Grandpa.”

“Ah, Tennyson,” said my grandfather with a mischievous twinkle in his faded green eyes. “School?”

“I have to write a report about the poem.”

“‘Cannon to the right…cannon to the left’…tommyrot! Real valley of death was that bloomin’ pestilential hospital.”

“But you were wounded. A hero.”

“Poppycock! We just did what we were told. The true hero was the angel who cared for us. The lady with the lamp, we called her.”

“What happened to her?”

“For all her troubles, she contracted Crimean fever and is a homebound invalid.”

Florence Nightingale circa 1854

.

25 April 2014

Published April 23, 2014 by rochellewisoff

WELCOME TO FRIDAY FICTIONEERS

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.
**IT’S NOT A RACE TO SEE WHO CAN POST FIRST. TAKE YOUR TIME. EDIT. POLISH. THEN POST.**
😉
***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.
- 🙂
😉
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. 😀
Copyright – Björn Rudberg

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

ALL THINGS MUST PASS

“‘A sunrise doesn’t last all morning,’” I sing and strum the chords that take me back to a New York television studio thirty years ago.

There to meet a friend, I loaned my Martin to an aging musician for his last live performance.

“You don’t happen to have a capo, do you, Miss Guitar Lady?” he asked.

Something in his serene eyes and genuine smile reached to the depths of my soul.

My fingers move on the fretboard where his once did. I never changed those strings.

And as VH1’s cameras recorded history, George Harrison made my guitar gently weep.

******

It’s not the best quality but here’s the clip that inspired my story. If you’re in a hurry and would rather not commit to 14 minutes the impetus for my story really starts at the 10:00 mark on the bar.

18 April 2014

Published April 16, 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.
- 🙂
😉
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.
Like us on Facebook
😉 My story follows the photo and link tool. I enjoy honest comments and welcome constructive criticism. 😀
Copyright – Douglas M. MacIlroy

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Genre: Literary Fiction

Word Count: 98

PARENT TEACHER CONFERENCE

When other kids give Mrs. Loftis flowers she’s all giggly. But when I bring them she gets frowny.

Why don’t she like me? I read better’n anybody else in first grade and I color in between the lines. Mommy says it’s my ‘magination.

Tonight sirens and mad grown-up voices wake me up. I run to Mommy’s room. She’s crying. So’s her boyfriend.

There’s a gun on the floor and a policeman is putting handcuffs on…Mrs. Loftis? Her face is all twisty and red.

“You cheap husband-stealing tramp!” she shouts.

Guess it’s not me she don’t like after all.

11 April 2014

Published April 9, 2014 by rochellewisoff

WELCOME TO FRIDAY FICTIONEERS!

🙂 Two years ago this week, I posted my first flash fiction after seeing Madison Woods’ notice on Facebook. I’m amazed at how fast the time has gone and how Friday Fictioneers has grown! 😀

*******

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.
**IT’S NOT A RACE TO SEE WHO CAN POST FIRST. TAKE YOUR TIME. EDIT. POLISH. THEN POST.**
😉
***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.
- 🙂
😉
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.
Like us on Facebook
My story follows the photo and link tool. I enjoy honest comments and welcome constructive criticism.
copyright – DLovering

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*There is only one photo prompt. Any photos appearing after my story go with MY STORY and are NOT in any way a prompt!

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 99

To escape Paris gossip, a pair of lovers spent the winter of 1838-1839 on the island of Mallorca.

FROM MALLORCA WITH LOVE

“George, let me read this to you.

“‘Estimado Señor,

“‘To have a couple living outside the bonds of holy matrimony under my roof brings shame to my head. Your woman’s cigar smoking and wearing of the man’s clothes is a sin.

“‘All this I have tolerated for the privilege of hosting such a celebrated musician.

“‘While you have my sympathy, your disease puts the island in danger. Please burn the linens and leave.”

Frédéric Chopin lit George’s cigar, set fire to the letter and tossed it on the bed.

“Cherie, I am afraid we must do as he asks.”

Frédéric Chopin succumbed to the dreaded Consumption (Tuberculosis) 17 October 1849 at age 39.

Amantine Lucile Aurore Dupin at age 34. A novelist, her pen name was George Sand.

Amantine Lucile Aurore Dupin at age 34. A novelist, she went by her pen name “George Sand.”

The only thing better than hearing Nocturne in C-Sharp Minor on piano is savoring its sweetness on piano and violin. If you have an extra five minutes, for your listening pleasure (and mine):

21 March 2014

Published March 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.
********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

TO THOSE WRITING HISTORICAL FICTION (MYSELF INCLUDED): While WIKIPEDIA is usually a decent source of information, it’s not always reliable one. As a rule, I use it as a jumping off point to other research threads. It’s a good rule of thumb to use more than one source. I speak from experience when I say that a simple 100 word story can bring serious repercussions.

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

- ***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.
Like us on Facebook
My story follows the photo and link tool. I enjoy honest comments and welcome constructive criticism.
Copyright -Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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Genre: Speculative Fiction

Word Count: 100

WE ALL FALL DOWN

“Classic nineteenth century architecture,” I tell my clients, “complete with functional…el-elevator.”

In front of me looms the steel leviathan that’s haunted my dreams for as long as I can remember. A thousand times I’ve clung to its lacquered grate only to slip and fall to my death at the bottom of the shaft.

“Ring-around-the-rosy…”

In a ruffled pinafore, a child skips toward the elevator. With eyes I know like my own she smiles up at me and waves. Transfixed, I watch her stumble through the open gate.

“…pocket-full-of-posies. Ashes. Ashes…”

She screams, grasps at the grate and vanishes like smoke.

8 November 2013

Published November 6, 2013 by rochellewisoff

- WELCOME TO FRIDAY FICTIONEERS.
- As always, writers are encouraged to be as innovative as possible with the prompt and 100 word constraints.
  
  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.
  - InLinkz has seen fit to change the format of the link box and automatically pastes the story title into the second box. IT WOULD BE HELPFUL IF YOU WOULD DELETE IT AND TYPE IN YOUR NAME SO THE REST OF US KNOW WHO THE AUTHOR IS. Thank you.
  - 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.
  - Like us on Facebook
  - - My story follows the photo and link tool. I enjoy honest comments and welcome constructive criticism.
    - Shalom,
    Rochelle
  - Copyright-Al Forbes

get the InLinkz code

Genre: Literary Fiction

Word Count: 97

MERCURY RISES

Of all the gods, Hermes, the messenger sent from Heaven to visit Earth, fascinated me the most. My adoration took wing the moment we met. How had I, a mere mortal, been so fortunate?

We played hide-and-seek in the sunlight and danced when there wasn’t any music. Once he spirited away my favorite necklace and hid it. I seethed until he returned it, twined around the stems of a fragrant bouquet.

Nyx casts her shadow across our efflorescent valley.

From his IV jungle of tubes and catheters, my Hermes whispers with a breathless rasp, “Mom, it’s time.”