What Pegman Saw

All posts tagged What Pegman Saw

THE MEASURE OF CIVILIZATION

Published February 25, 2017 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman takes us to the Amazon…not Amazon.com…but the original one in Brazil.

To enjoy stories inspired by the What Pegman Saw prompt or to submit your own 150-word story, visit the inLinkz button:

For guidelines and rules for the What Pegman Saw weekly writing prompt, visit the home page.

Here’s the photo I chose from the Google Buffet.

Thanks to K Rawson for hosting this challenge!

the-amazon

 Ah the joy of 50 extra words! I’ve taken one of my older Friday Fictioneers pieces and given it a make-over. 

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 150

THE MEASURE OF CIVILIZATION

Half naked Himba people in Nambia, a sweaty camera crew and millions of TV viewers witnessed our marriage vows. 

I followed Trevor up the Himalayas and drank sun-scorched canteen water instead of Cabernet.

In Nepal he slipped on animal feces and narrowly escaped being trampled by a choleric elephant.

After Trevor’s ankle mended, his next assignment was the Amazon. There we lived in a grass hut. Mosquitos and humidity made it impossible to sleep.

Trevor kissed my eight-month belly. “You should go home.”

“You are my home.”

Before the words left my mouth, my water broke.

Twelve hours of spine-crunching labor later, a Waurá midwife helped deliver our daughter. We named her Kauné in her honor.

_______

Back in the states, safe from cheetah attacks and hippo stampedes, Trevor’s mangled body lies on a cold steel table. The driver, texting on her cell phone, never saw him cross the street.  

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waura-child

FLOWER AND WILLOW WORLD

Published February 19, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman visits Tokyo.

ありがとうございました
Arigatōgozaimashita, 
thnk you to Karen Rawson for hosting this unique challenge. 

To enjoy other stories inspired by the What Pegman Saw prompt or to submit your own 150-word story, visit the inLinkz button:

For guidelines and rules for the What Pegman Saw weekly writing prompt, visit the home page.
My photo choice from stroll through Google

My photo choice from stroll through Google

Again, I’m late for the party, but couldn’t resist the challenge. Maybe it’s the extra 50 words or the fact that I’m merely a participant. 

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 150

FLOWER AND WILLOW WORLD

A thousand butterflies swirl in my stomach as I peer out the window, watching for the car that will bring my Hoshi-chan, my shining star, for a brief visit.

After we left her at the Okiya in Kyoto, six months ago, I cried for a week.

“It’s all for the best, Fumiko-chan,” said my husband Ichiro. “She’s following her life’s path.”  

“What does she know of life? She’s only fifteen.”

“We’ve five more children and can hardly feed them.”

I cannot argue, but Hoshi is our only daughter, my ally in this man’s house.

At her Misedashi—formal presentation ceremony—my heart swelled with pride. In exquisite silk kimono, painted face and jeweled hair, Hoshi, renamed Kikuyu, was welcomed into the secret society of Geisha.

She glided to me on lacquered getas and uttered those words I will forever cherish. “Okaasan, when I come home, please cook me a hamburger.”

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geisha-doll-painting

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

NO TENGO COCHE

Published February 12, 2017 by rochellewisoff

This week I’m late to the fiesta. I didn’t think I’d make it at all but this one just came to me.

To enjoy stories inspired by the What Pegman Saw prompt or to submit your own 150-word story, visit the inLinkz button:

For guidelines and rules for the What Pegman Saw weekly writing prompt, visit the home page.

¡Muchas gracias to Karen Rawson for hosting this challenge!

Mi fóto está aquí:

calle-4

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 150

NO TENGO COCHE

            Kevin couldn’t resist las señoritas. While vacationing in Mexico City he met Alicia del Flores.

            “I adore men with blue eyes and yellow hair,” she said with a smile bright enough to light up an entire football field.

            Every night he took her to a new café or theater.

            “I wish you had a car,” she whispered in his ear, sending shivers through him. “My feet hurt from all this walking.”

            All too soon Kevin’s vacation ended. He embraced her. “Will you marry me?”

            “Sí.”

            He quit his job in Kansas, sold his house and bought a one way ticket to Mexico.

            Heart pounding, diamond in hand, he knocked on her door. Her brother opened it. “Kevin? ¿Por qué?

            “I’m here to claim Alicia.”

            “She married Roberto the taxi cab driver last Sunday.”

            “She promised to wait.” Tears streaming, Kevin sank down on the porch. “At least she has transportation.”

HATH NOT A JEW EYES?

Published February 5, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Hammerfest, Norway

This location was suggested by the talented Alicia over at Up From the Ashes . Thanks Alicia!

Feel free to stroll around using the Google street view and grab any picture you choose to include in your post.

To enjoy stories inspired by the What Pegman Saw prompt or to submit your own 150-word story, visit the InLinkz button:

For guidelines and rules for the What Pegman Saw weekly writing prompt, visit the home page.

I’ve gone ‘there’ again. It’s what I saw. Thanks to K Rawson for hosting this group. Below is the photo I chose from Pegman’s Buffet.

My Chosen Prompt

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 150

HATH NOT A JEW EYES?

            Do you know the word “Jew” is a common insult among Norwegian teens? Should this bother me? After all, I am a Norwegian Jew.  

            “If you prick us, do we not bleed?”

            Reptilian? I’ve been called this. Do people seriously believe this mishegoss—that Jews are lizard creatures from another planet?

            “If you tickle us, do we not laugh?”

             I will never forget holding my father’s hand as we strolled along a mountain path. Two youths shoved him and shouted, “Child murderer!”

             The memory of warm spittle dripping down my face sickens me still.

            “If you wrong us, do we not revenge?”

            Not in Norway. Instead, we hide in plain sight.

            Last summer a group of Hasidim invited all of us to a Jewish gathering in Oslo. We cranked up the music and danced in front of Parliament.

            I’ve heard that work makes us free, but we’re not falling for that again.  

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Here is a link to the video that informed my story. It’s over 20 minutes long so I don’t expect everyone to have the time. However, if you do…

 

SWING SHIFT

Published January 28, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Wonder of wonders, I’m back for another round. 😉 It must be the lure of those fifty extra words. Here are the simple directions:

Today, Pegman visits Buffalo, NY.  Thanks to Prior for this week’s location.

Feel free to stroll around using the Google street view and grab any picture you choose to include in your post.

To enjoy stories inspired by the What Pegman Saw prompt or to submit your own 150-word story, visit the InLinkz button:

For guidelines and rules for the What Pegman Saw weekly writing prompt, visit the home page.

Many thanks to K Rawson for hosting.

ivy-street-in-buffalo

The following story is a rework of an old story. I thought perhaps the addition of fifty words might help it along. I also think this one will be lengthened at a later date. Still rolling it around my head.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

SWING SHIFT

            On Black Tuesday Pop lost his Wall Street job.

             He sold everything of any value except Mom’s prized antique vase, our phonograph and his clarinet.

            We moved from our Park Avenue apartment to a shabby house in Buffalo. Pop found employment as a night janitor.   

            One Sunday afternoon, drawn by phonograph music, I wandered into his room.  Hunched over, he held a gun to his temple.

            I screamed and knocked it from his grasp.

            It discharged. The bullet ricocheted off the wall, whizzed through my hair and shattered Mom’s vase.

            “Forgive me.” He crushed me against his chest. “I’ve forgotten what’s really important.”   

            After that Pop found solace playing his “licorice stick.” He delighted our neighbors at backyard barbeques.

            At Mom’s urging, he auditioned for a local swing band. From 1935 to 1962 they toured the Borscht Belt.

            His zest for life was contagious.

            Incidentally, Mom never mentioned her vase.           

 

Borscht Belt

Probably not Pop’s band, but thrown in for flavor.

POETIC INJUSTICE

Published January 22, 2017 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman has gone to Moscow. Many thanks to K Lawson for graciously hosting. To choose your own photo click here. Write your own flash fiction of 150 words or less. Click the blue frog to add your own link.

Here’s the photo I chose:

moscow-street

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

POETIC INJUSTICE

           “I adored the stage,” said Bubbe Gittel of her time in the Moscow State Jewish Theater. “I had a crush on the director, Shlomo Mikhoels. What a performer he was!”  

            I switched off the TV. My grandmother’s stories beat summer reruns. Even in her 80’s she could still recite Shakespeare—in Yiddish.

            “During the war Mr. Stalin kept us safe from Hitler and made Shlomo the head of the Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee. The show would always go on. So I thought.”

            Bubbe’s smile faded. “The war ended and with it, Stalin’s favor.”

            “What happened, Bubbe?”

            “They called it an accident, but I saw it with my own eyes. A KGB monster shoved Shlomo in the path of a speeding truck. Other members of the committee were arrested for treason—poets and writers they were. Four years later, they were executed. Their real crime? We know what that was, don’t we?”

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Click for Encore

solomon-mikhoels

 

VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS

Published January 14, 2017 by rochellewisoff

To enjoy stories inspired by the What Pegman Saw prompt or to submit your own 150-word story, visit the inLinkz button:


For guidelines and rules for the What Pegman Saw weekly writing prompt, visit the home page.

landers-california

I wish I could call my story for this week Flash Fiction. It’s 150 words of what I’m feeling this morning. 

VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS

Three young people lie on steel morgue tables while a toddler fights for his brief life.

There’s nothing new under the sun, is there? Newscast after newscast has broadcast similar incidents as I’ve tossed back a glass of wine, shook my head and said, “How awful.”

That changed when I saw the Facebook post that said, “Last night I lost the love of my life.” A couple’s obvious devotion shone from their photos.

My heart plummeted. “That’s my friend, my coworker.”

“Daddy loves you,” said his next post.

Under his words was the picture of a happy father with a smiling boy riding piggyback on his shoulders.

No words in the unabridged dictionary can express the depths of despair, rage and helplessness that drill my soul.

I want to embrace him and say something meaningful to ease his pain, but all I can do is spout clichés through my tears.

 

 

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