What Pegman Saw

All posts tagged What Pegman Saw

Let Your Light Shine

Published March 16, 2020 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman finds himself in the once-great forests of Minnesota in the American Midwest.  Your mission is to wander around using the google photosphere until something inspires you to write 150 words. When you’re satisfied, post your link to this week’s InLinkz site to share with your fellow participants. Remember, reading and commenting on other stories is part of the fun.

Have a good time, and do your best!

inlinkz frog

Thanks to Josh for keeping the lamps lit and the wicks trimmed. 

My research trail set my feet firmly in Split Rock Lighthouse. Keep your hands clean and sanitized. Be well and enjoy the read. 😉

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150


“G.T. did I ever tell you about the time a sea monster came up out of Lake Superior.”

The boy’s eyes grew round as wagon wheels. “Really?”

“Holy oh jumpin’ up and down mackinaw city bobcat rooster! Big as a cockingaway.”

Tom Hassing raised his hands over his head for emphasis. “Would I lie?”

“There’s no such thing as cockingways, Grandpa.” G.T.’s sister Terry giggled. “He’s just making it up, isn’t he, Grandma?”

Anna tugged Terry’s ponytail. “It’s all those hours in the tower keeping the lamp burning so ships don’t get lost in the night.”

Despite the years of isolation between the 1930’s and 40’s she never lacked for entertainment with her lighthouse keeper. How he loved telling tales, first to their two children and now to their daughter’s children.

Anna took a pan of sticky buns from the oven, basking in the yeasty, fresh-baked cinnamon aroma and laughter.


Assistant keeper Tom Hassing came to Split Rock light station for a half-season in 1933, returned in 1938 and stayed there with his wife, Anna, until he retired in 1953. During these years, the posting was year-round and they lived there with their children, Evelyn and Harry. Later, after she was married, Evelyn Hassing Amell’s son and daughter, Tom and Terry, would spend time with their grandfather at the light. My story is based on an interview with grandson Tom, called G.T.  


Published March 9, 2020 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman hitches up his camel for a trip deep into the Saudi Arabian desert, an oasis known as Wadi ad-Dawasir. There is no street view, but more than a few photospheres. Feel free to wander until you find something that appeals to you, then write up to 150 words about it. Sharing, reading, and commenting is the meat of a photo prompt, so please participate. If you enjoy yourself, please encourage others to join this community.

Thanks for playing, and do your best! Thanks to Josh for hosting.

To read other stories, click here.

Two weeks in a row for me. 😉 I debated over this one. But being one day after International Women’s Day, it seems right to speak out for women who have no voice. 

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 150


We met in Toronto Pearson airport, where Clemira sought asylum. Her dark eyes broke my heart. She grasped my hands in both of hers. “Thank you for your help.”

Two years before I myself fled Saudi Arabia after my father killed my sister for going out in public without her Hajib. He poured acid on her while she slept. In my dreams I still hear her screams.

“I will do whatever I can.” I kissed Clemira’s scarred cheek. “How did you manage to escape?”

“The new law enabling women to drive saved me.” The plucky seventeen-year-old mother of three squared her shoulders. “My passport is up to date from our vacation. My brother—a rare sympathetic man—bought my ticket. I packed my things while Akbar slept. Then I took the car and drove to the airport.”

“Aren’t you worried about your children?”

“Akbar won’t beat them. They are boys.”


Published March 2, 2020 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman journeys to the port of Hadera, Israel. As always, walk around until you find something that inspires you to write up to 150 words, then share it with the other contributors. Remember that reading and commenting on the other stories is part of the fun.

Contributions have again been declining, so Pegman may go into retirement soon. I’d encourage you to show your support for this prompt. Thanks.

I’ve been a Pegman MIA for a while. Too many challenges lately, including the writing of a novel in progress.  I understand that facilitating a blog challenge is can be daunting. Participation and reciprocation are the key to success. On that note, I apologize for not being more faithful. With the location being in Israel, how could I not show up?

Thank you for your diligence, Josh and Karen


Genre: Historical Fiction for Women’s History Month 😉

Word Count: 150


Hannah gazed at the chubby infant in the crook of her arm. After hours of torturous labor, she was weary, yet too excited to sleep. She studied the baby’s perfectly formed hands and paper-thin fingernails. “I was so sure the Almighty would give me a son.”

            The baby opened her eyes and formed an ‘o’ with her lips as if trying to answer.

            “On this day in 1891, our Moshavah Hadera welcomes another soul. A new life in a new village.”  Full cheeks glowing with perspiration and joy, the midwife lifted the newborn from Hannah’s arms. “What will you be when you grow up? A teacher, maybe? A doctor perhaps?” The child whimpered and sucked her fist. “For now, a hungry girl.”  

            Hannah held the child to her breast. “Do you regret not having your own children?”           

            “I’ve helped birth hundreds of children.” Olga Hankin laughed. “They’re all my own.”  



Herzl Street


Published December 9, 2019 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman takes us to Saskatchewan Canada. You may use the photo provided with the prompt or take to Google maps and search within the borders of Saskatchewan for your own inspiration.

Your mission is to write up to 150 words inspired by the prompt. You may contribute poetry, prose, or essay. Once your piece is polished share with others at the link up below. Reading and commenting on others work is part of the fun.

Click frogs to enter the campground. 

Thanks to Karen and Josh for hosting the challenge.

I chose this idyllic scene to revisit a flash fiction I wrote in July of 2012 when I was just one of the Friday Fictioneers gang. I added  50 words and a new title. Voila! 

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 150


           “I detest camping,” said Ella.

             Following a full day of hiking, two miles past the nearest service station, Geoff’s classic mustang stalled. Neither of their cell phones found a signal and the sun was setting. Resentment swelled her. Pain riddled her back and thighs as they’d hauled their gear to a nearby vacant cabin.

             “You told me you loved camping, El.”

             “I lied.”

              He massaged her swollen feet. “Look at this magnificent view. Not to mention you’re in the company of your personal physician.”

              How could she resist his brown-eyed, boyish pout?  That same look coaxed her into matrimony to the impoverished med student a year ago. “Yes, it’s beautiful. I only hope the folks who own this place don’t come and have us arrested.”

            “At least we don’t have to pitch the tent. See? Our luck’s about to change.”

            “More than you can imagine, doctor. My water just broke.”




Published December 1, 2019 by rochellewisoff

The Greenwood district was a thriving African-American community with luxury shops, restaurants, grocery stores, hotels, jewelry and clothing stores, movie theaters, barbershops and salons, a library, pool halls, nightclubs and offices for doctors, lawyers and dentists. It had its own school system, post office, a savings and loan bank, hospital, and bus and taxi service

This is an unusual prompt today because it’s focused on a specific time and place, and as such is sort of an experiment. We at Pegman encourage you to look into this mostly-forgotten tragedy and write something about it, but as always you can write anything about Tulsa that strikes your fancy.”


Thanks to Josh and Karen for hosting the Pegman Challenge. I couldn’t very well resist a challenge that includes history. My heart goes out to the people of Greenwood. I dream of a day we can appreciate each other’s differences instead of trying to snuff them out. 

The aftermath. 35 city blocks were razed to the ground.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150


I knew nothing of the so-called race riot that took over 300 lives in our district of Greenwood until 1996 when the Today Show ran a story. After seeing it on television, my 80-year-old grandfather agreed to let me interview him for a school report.

            “You must understand,” he squeezed my hand, “my memories are those of a five-year-old.”

            I poised my pen over my notepad. “Go on, Poppy.”

            His faded gaze looked past me. “Four men ran toward the house with guns and lighted torches. Bam! My daddy fell.” A tear streamed down a crevice of Poppy’s leathered cheek.

            “Mama yelled to us kids, ‘get up under the bed.’ Which we did. My sister clapped her hand over my mouth when one of the men tromped on my finger. I can still feel it. They set fire to the curtains. Life as we knew it went up in smoke.”


Published November 16, 2019 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman takes us to Shewdagon Pagoda in Myanmar. Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to write up to 150 words inspired by this week’s location. Feel free to use the image supplied in the prompt, or take to Google maps and find your own view with in the borders of Myanmar.

Once your piece is polished, share it with others at the linkup below. Reading and commenting is part of the fun!

Thanks to Karen and Josh for facilitating this round the world blog challenge.


Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 150


            Muu Yi tugged at the wang around her neck. “It makes my shoulders hurt, Aahwarr.”

            “You only have five coils.” Her grandmother glanced up from her loom and grinned. “Wait until you have eighteen like me.”              

            “Why do we wear them when a lot of the women in the village don’t?”

            “Modern girls. They care nothing for tradition.” Aahwarr hunched over her weaving and clucked her tongue. Then she straightened. “Listen. I will tell you a story. Thousands of years ago, a sorcerer fell in love with and married a dragon. The dragon laid three eggs which became the Pa-Oh, the Karen and our tribe the Padaung. To honor our dragon mother we make our necks look like hers.”

            “I am proud to wear the rings.” Muu Yi clapped her hands. “I like that story.”

            “So do the tourists, little one.” Aahwarr patted her granddaughter’s cheek. “So do the tourists.”


Published November 9, 2019 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman goes to Guyana, South America. Your mission is to write up to 150 words inspired by this week’s location. Feel free to use the image supplied with the prompt, or zoom in to Guyana on Google Maps and find your own inspiration. Warning, there are not a lot of photo spheres, but the more you zoom around the more you’ll find.

Once your piece is polished, share it with others at the link up below. You may contribute, poetry, prose, or essay–or whatever the location inspires you to write. Reading and commenting is part of the fun!

click the frog. You know you want to. 

Thanks to Karen and Josh for facilitating this challenge.

The following is an expanded version of a story I posted 4 years ago in Friday Fictioneers. For those of us who remember…let us never forget. 

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150


            Like a frightened animal, the girl huddled in the darkest corner of an abandoned shack on the beach. I offered her refuge in my winter home in Bridgetown. After much coaxing she accepted.

            “Where are your parents?” I asked. “Do they know where you are?”

            She fell into my arms, shaking with anguished sobs. “Dead. Everyone’s dead.”

            I embraced her, unable to stem my own tears. “You’re safe now.”

            “He promised us a rainbow family in Paradise,” she whispered the next day over lunch.

            “We saw the bastard on the news. How did you escape?”

            “I told the guard Father wanted flowers for the meeting. I hid under bushes all day, ran all night and then stole a fishing boat. I floated a long time.” She licked her blistered lips.

            “Scorcher today.” My husband burst onto the patio, pitcher in hand. “Kool-Aid anyone?”

            “No, thank you.” She choked. “Not ever.”  



This, that and the other thing

Looking at life through photography and words

Kelvin M. Knight

FLASHES of inspiration. SHORT deliberations. STORIES for all.

Na'ama Yehuda

Speech Language Pathologist, Writer, Blogger -- musings, anecdotes, stories, quotes, life lessons and growth

Diane's Ponderings

Psalm 19:1 The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.

Jellico's Writing Nook

A cup of coffee and a quiet morning respite to write


Paula Shablo

Sarah Potter Writes

Pursued by the Muses of prose and poetry

Sammi Cox

Author Aspiring

Neil MacDonald Author

A writer's journey

Autumn Leaves

For those who enjoy fiction

Native Heritage Project

Documenting the Ancestors

Living In Eternity

If Eternity Is Forever, Am I There Now?

Rereading Jane Eyre

Author Luccia Gray


Catskills Memories, Genealogy, travel and commentary

e.l. dalke: survivor

a journey of fractures, in my own words

Creativity for You

Posts about creativity from Thomas Ward, Professor Emeritus of Psychology, University of Alabama.


a weekly flash fiction prompt inspired by google maps

Lori Ericson, Author

An author's perspective of mystery and more.

Alyssa Davies

You Can Never Be Overdressed or Overeducated

Write already!

Write, write, write...

The Off Key Of Life

Or….Identifying The Harmless Unhinged Among Us.

What's So Funny?

Russell Gayer, author speaker

The Write Melony

Renowned Writer Extraordinaire - in my mind!

%d bloggers like this: