What Pegman Saw

All posts tagged What Pegman Saw


Published June 10, 2018 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman takes us caving in Texas in the United States. If you take the tour above, you can go caving.  However, you’re free to visit nearby Amarillo or the Cadillac Ranch if you prefer.

Your mission is to write up to to 150 words inspired by the location. You can contribute a story, poem, or essay. Once your piece is polished, feel free to share it with others using the linkup below. Reading and commenting on others’ work is part of the fun.

Thanks to Karen and Josh for hosting the challenge.

The following story is admittedly a summer rerun. Some will remember the version entitled “Generations” I posted for Friday Fictioneers. I dusted it off, changed the title, added 50 words and, voila, a Pegman story is born. 😉 Some of you might remember it. The photo I chose is the same one I used in July 2015…has it really been three years?

Cadillac Ranch- © Jean L. Hays

Genre: Hysterical Fiction

Word Count: 150


            “The summer of 1953. What a heatwave.” Great-Gran adjusted the thermostat. “We didn’t have air conditioning.”

            “No A/C?” Fourteen year-old Megan put her DVD on pause. “You really did live in the Stone Age. What did you do for fun? Play with rocks?”

            “Very funny, Missy.” Great-Gran giggled like a schoolgirl. “My boyfriend and I went to the drive-in theater on Saturday nights. If we were lucky there’d be a decent breeze and a good flick like Roman Holiday or From Here to Eternity.

            “Oh I adore those. I caught them on Netflix. Burt Lancaster was really hot in that sex scene on the beach.”

            Great-Gran’s withered cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkled. “I missed that part of the movie, but I think the scene in Bobby’s Bel-Air topped it.”

            “April, 1954.” Megan saw her great grandmother in a whole new light. “Does Gramps know he’s a passion pit baby?”  


I think the film clips bear repeating, too. 😉


Published May 26, 2018 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman takes us to Armenia. You are welcome to use the photo provided in the prompt, or chose from among many photo spheres from across the country.

Will you dig into Armenia’s rich history? Delve into its present? Imagine its future? Or will you conjure your own alternate reality? The only rule is to keep your story, poem, or essay under 150 words.

Once  your piece is polished, share it with others using the Linkup below. Reading and commenting on others work is part of the fun!

Thanks to Karen and Josh for facilitating this weekly globetrotting experience. 

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150


I had just curled up on the sofa when the doorbell rang. Sore from giving birth and sleep deprived from a full-night’s worth of colic, I padded to the door. There stood my Armenian grandmother, Teddy bear in tow.

Tatik, I just put Joseph down for his nap.”

 Her brown eyes twinkled. “I come to see my great-grandson. The first boy in two generations.”

Dropping the toy on the couch, she bent over the bassinet and swept my son into her arms. Suddenly, she collapsed into the rocker clutching him to her chest and burst into tears. “He looks just like my baby brother—Joseph. The Turks ripped him from my mother’s arms, buried him up to his shoulders in the dirt and crushed his little skull under their trucks. Sixty years later I still hear the screams.

“Because we were Christians they called us infidels. I call them bastards.”  

December 1915 NY Times





Published May 14, 2018 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman takes us to Gwynedd, Wales. This week’s location was suggested by regular Pegman storyteller Alicia Jamtaas. Be sure to visit her site and enjoy her flash fiction and poetry over at https://lishwriter.wordpress.com/   Thanks for the great suggestion, Lish!

Your mission is to visit the region via Google Maps, and write (up to) 150 words inspired by the prompt. You can use the photo above, or browse around for your own view anywhere in Gwynedd. There are plenty of photo spheres around Caernarfon Castle, and both street view and photo spheres all over Gwynedd.

Once your piece is polished, you can share it with others using the linkup below. Reading and commenting on others’ work is part of the fun!

So here I am late for the party once more. And…while my picture is of a street in Gwynedd, my story takes place in another part of Wales–Tredegar. You may be saying, “Oy, there she goes with the Jewish history again.” 😉 Couldn’t help myself. 

As always, thank you to Karen and Josh for facilitating this group of globe trotting writers. 

Genre: Historical Fiction (You were expecting maybe vampires?)

Word Count: 150


“Why, Adoshem?” Tears streamed from my papa’s eyes and soaked his beard. “Again and again You bring destruction upon us? For this we fled Russia—to be slaughtered in Wales? ‘He has hurled fire into my bones—’” A sob choked his words.

            I trembled. The night before I’d hidden under my bed, covering my ears to blot out shouts of, “Get the Jews!” and the crash of shattering windows.

            Broken furniture littered the floor. Papa’s sewing machine lay in two pieces. Spools of thread and shredded fabric were strewn everywhere.

            Mama’s soft voice cut through the hush. “Danken Gott, we’re alive.”

            Papa winced. “For how long. Everywhere the goyim hate us. ”

            At that moment a Christian youth entered the shop, head bowed, and gave Papa a banknote. “My father sends his apologies and this to help rebuild.” He took a broom from the floor.  “Perhaps I can help.”        



Some Even Call it Poetry

Published May 7, 2018 by rochellewisoff

Many thanks to Marsha Gershun who, for the third year in a row has organized the CloudBursT at Beth Torah Synagogue in Overland Park, Kansas. 

Martha Gershun

This was my second year to participate. Although, only a handful of us turned up, it was a lovely time to share our individual Jewish experience.

Two of my Hebrew students came to support me…Joy and Joie…so you could say it was a joyful experience. 😉 I wish I’d thought to take a picture of the two of them. Alas, I didn’t so you’ll have to take my word for it that they are two very lovely ladies.

Although I would love to have shared a few other readers, my husband’s smartphone could only take so much. So for your watching and listening (hopefully) pleasure, here’s my part of the program. My Friday Fictioneers and other Pegman participants will undoubtedly recognize these pieces.



Published May 6, 2018 by rochellewisoff

Happy Cinco de Mayo! This week, quite fittingly, Pegman takes us to Mexico. Participants are invited to poke around the resort village (and ancient Mayan stomping grounds) of Tulum. You’ll find both streetview and photospheres to inspire you at this location.

Your mission is to write a 150-word story-poem-essay inspired by the location. Feel free to wander around and find your own view to use in your post.

Once your piece is polished, you can share it with others using the linkup below. Reading and commenting on others’ work is part of the fun!

The photo I chose is from the “Pegman Buffet” but my story takes place in Chiapas, Mexico, a few miles inland from Tulum. The Mayans have always fascinated me. So many mysteries surrounding them.  

Thanks as always to Karen and Josh for hosting this globe trotting challenge. 

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150


            The soft grass tickled her back as Yohl lied beside the stream. She relished the sun’s warmth on her face. The rush of the waterfall lulled her and a delicious wave of sleep washed over her.

            “Yohl Ik’nal!”

            She snapped open her eyes to see a giant looming above her. Sunrays splayed like a crown around his massive head. Lightning bolts from his dark eyes seared her.

            Heart thumping, she rolled over and lay prostrate before him. “Itzamná, ruler of the heavens. All gods tremble in your presence. Why do you come to me, a mere girl child?”

            Tucking his finger under her chin, he raised her head. “You shall be queen of your people.”

            Like smoke rising from sacrificial fire, he vanished.

            Ascending Palenque’s throne, Yohl assumed the burdens of her people. In the shadow of impending battle and bloodshed, she trembled and pondered her dream of long ago.  



Published April 30, 2018 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman goes to the Great Wall of China. Feel free to choose from photospheres you find anywhere along it’s length. This link will get you started, or you can venture off on your own. No need to stay with your tour group on Pegman tours 😉

Your mission is to write up to 150 words inspired by your tour of the location. You’re welcome to write fiction, essay, poetry, or anything you choose. Once your 150 words is polished, you can share it with other Pegman contributors at the Linkup below. Reading and commenting on others’ work is part of the fun!

Thanks, always, to Karen and Josh for hosting this challenge. Great fun!

I wasn’t sure I’d make it back this week. We’re finding it takes a while to re-acclimate after a long trip. At any rate, this story has been brewing for the past couple of days, so, despite my being late for the Pegman party, I post this for those who’ll read. 

The photo I chose.

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 150


The letter arrived a few days before my thirtieth birthday. I studied the handwriting. It almost looked like I’d written it myself. Was it a cruel prank or a defining moment?

            “No doubt this is terrible timing, but I’ve been searching for you half my life. Your Facebook posts about your poor mum’s dreadful automobile accident, told me I’d found my answer…”  

            Searching for me? I lived in Missouri, thousands of miles from London. This stranger, named Sally Myers-Hempstead, proposed we make a Skype date.

            Ron booted up my laptop. “What’ve ya got to lose, Sis? This might be your answer, too.”

            What answer? My adoption had never been a secret. Mom and Dad loved to tell the story of how they went all the way to China for their baby girl.   

            My mirror image smiled onscreen. “Happy birthday, Sondra!”

            I managed to whisper. “Happy birthday to you, too, Sally.”           



It does happen…quite a bit actually. These two young ladies, adopted by different families were reunited on GMA a couple of years ago. There are many other stories out there, similar to my bit of fiction.


Published March 31, 2018 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman takes us to Nigeria. Feel free to use the location chosen or chose from one of the many photo spheres available throughout the country of Nigeria. if you drift over to Lagos along the southwest shore, you’ll also be able to take a streetview.

The Pegman challenge is to write 150 words inspired by this week’s location. Will it be historical fiction? Fantasy? Contemporary? Or does the location bring out your poetry muse? It’s up to you. When your piece is polished, please share a link to it at the linkup below:

Although the photo I chose is from the Pegman buffet and is the Garura Waterfall in Nigeria, I traveled far afield. What can I say? Tis the season when a Jewish princess’ thoughts turn to Moses, Matza and Maror (bitter herbs). Enjoy! Chag Samayach (Happy Holiday) Whether you celebrate Passover, Easter or all or none of the above. 

As always, many thanks to Karen and Josh for hosting the Pegman Party. 

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150


            Yosi pushed at the door, but before he could open it, his mother shoved him aside and shouted, “No! Not tonight. It’s not safe.”

            Yosi’s lower lip quivered. His black curls clung to his forehead. “Your cooking makes me hot.”

            Dafna whisked him into her arms, kissed his cheek and sat him on the floor beside the infant who slumbered peacefully in her basket. “You must watch your sister for me while I gather our belongings for our journey.”

            “Why are we leaving Egypt? Where are we going? Why is this night different?”

            “So many questions, Yosi, my firstborn son?” Oriel dripped lamb’s blood on the doorpost. He smiled and shrugged. “Someday you’ll understand and teach your own children.”


            Forty years later, Yosi recalled the parting of the Reed Sea and prepared the Passover in the Promised Land.

            “Abba,” Yosi’s son asked, “Why is this night different from all others?”  






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