COUNTRY OF THE BLIND

Published July 10, 2017 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman takes us to Bogota, Columbia.

Feel free to stroll around the area 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.

Thanks to K Rawson and J Hardy Caroll for hosting this irresistible challenge each week.

Unfashionably late to the party this week. In fact I didn’t think I’d be on the guest list at all, but this piece sort of niggled inside my head. I seem to be in a reflective mode lately. I did try a bit of research…Jews in Bogota…”Famous People in Bogota for $50, Alex.” But this one haunted me and begged to be written. Now, if I haven’t bored you with intro…

Genre: Anecdote/Memoir

Word Count: 150

COUNTRY OF THE BLIND

The 1950’s through the 1960’s is often referred to as the Golden Age of Television. In a day where astounding computer graphics have replaced the salt-in-water special effects of Star Trek’s transporter beam, Millennials might scoff at such presumption.

Where are programs such as Playhouse 90 and, my personal favorite, The Twilight Zone? In my opinion, reality shows or over-the-top sitcoms are no match for them.

One black and white production of the DuPont Theater etched its stamp on my psyche and gave me nightmares. The play starred Lee Marvin who portrayed Juan De Nuñez, a prospector from the city who seeks wealth in the mountains of Columbia. Instead he finds himself held captive in village where everyone is blind.

To this day I feel the shock that sizzled through eight-year-old me when the camera zeroed in on an eyeless Marvin who said, “I am the richest man in Bogota.”

*

UNTER DER WAND

Published July 1, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman takes us to Berlin’s Stresemannstraße in the former GDR.

Feel free to stroll around the area 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.

Thanks to J Hardy Carroll and K Rawson for facilitating this weekly challenge.

The Berlin Wall Today

Some of you might remember a shorter version of this story. I confess. It’s a refurbished rerun. It just seemed to fit and it’s been two years since I posted it. Perhaps the addition of fifty words has freshened it up a bit.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

UNTER DER WAND

“Hurry, Annika.” Vati whispered, glanced over his shoulder at the border guards and pulled me by the hand down Bernauer Strasse. “Mr. Schulenburg and his friends have risked their lives for this moment. This is our one and only chance to get to West.”

“What about Fritz?”

“Forget him!”

It was October 1964, a few days before my seventh birthday. What did I care of Mr. Schulenburg’s sacrifice? I only cared about Fritz.

Blinded by tears, I stumbled into a crowded building once used as a toilettenhäuschen where we followed other refugees through a hole in the floor. My father held me as we crawled through the dank tunnel. Within minutes we were lifted out on the other side.

While others shouted for joy I mourned my loss.

“Don’t cry, Liebling.” Vati grinned and took a groggy puppy from his coat pocket. “I couldn’t forget him either.”

Once more I share a link that’s worth a little over three minutes of your time.

MUTINY ON THE USS MGM

Published June 27, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Feel free to stroll around the area 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.

Here it is, Friday Fictioneers Eve and I still couldn’t resist Mr. Pegman. I’m very late to the party due to an extremely full weekend. My first art show/book signing was an immense success. So with a sheepish, but happy grin, I submit my story. Many Mahalos to K Rawson and J Hardy Carroll for hosting this challenge.

Pitcairn Island

When I saw Pitcairn Island, my mind went to Fletcher Christian and Captain Bligh. Christian’s descendants still live there after over 300 years. At any rate, I chose a different facet of its history.

MUTINY ON THE USS MGM

“The role of a lifetime and you’re perfect for it,” Frank handed the actor the script. “I promise you an epic your fans won’t forget.”

Steely gray-green eyes pierced through Frank. “Get Fairbanks, he’s a natural in sissy knee-pants.”

“That’s what they wore in the 1700’s.”

“And you want me to wear a damned pigtail? Like a little girl?” The actor ran his fingers through his dark waves and flexed his pectorals. “I have an image to maintain.”

Frank’s irritation at the petulant performer mounted. “Queues were normal for manly men of the day. And…er…one more thing, Clark. Seamen in the Royal Navy weren’t allowed facial hair.”

Clark Gable tossed the script in Frank’s lap. “You want me to shave? Have you lost your mind?”

Frank held up a photo of a Polynesian beauty “Meet Mamo Clark. Your costar.”

A dimpled smile spread Gable’s lips. “The moustache will grow back.”

PRICELESS

Published June 19, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman takes us to the Burj Khalifa in Dubai.

Feel free to stroll around the area 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.

Thanks to K Rawson and J Hardy Carroll for heading up this challenge, one that I can’t seem to avoid. 😉 I’m not even caught up on my Friday Fictioneers reading, commenting and replying.

The Gold Souk in Dubai

Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 150

PRICELESS

“Cash for your old gold,” boasted a reputable local jeweler.

He set up a table at the front of the grocery store where I worked as a cake designer. There he made his offer to employees and customers alike.

“Wish I had something to trade in, I could use the money,” said Maggie, my coworker. “You got anything?”

My husband is something of a jewelry junkie and bought some stunning gold pieces while stationed in Dubai during the Gulf War. Nothing I care to part with. My favorite is a simple heart ring, the symbol of storms we’ve weathered in our marriage.

“Nah, but I wonder what this is actually worth.”

Maggie took it and left the bakery. When she returned she tossed it on the counter. “It’s fake.”

Isn’t it sad that a “trained professional” didn’t recognize 24 carat gold?

Like my daddy used to say, “It’s always something.”

*

It’s rarely left my right index finger since December 1999. 24 carat gold is soft and easily bent. BUT it’s never turned my finger green.

OPUS MAJESTUOSO

Published June 11, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman walks through Guatemala City

Feel free to stroll around the area 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.

Thanks to J Hardy Carroll and K Rawson for hosting this enjoyable challenge!

Once more, following the research trail I learned some history I didn’t know. If that’s not wonderful enough, this is ART history.

Mural by Carlos Mérida – Institute of Social Security in Guatemala City

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

OPUS MAJESTUOSO

Carlos hunched over the piano, hands over his ears, tears dripping on the ivory keys. “No puedo oír la música. Mi vida se acabó.”

“Mi hijo,” Papa squeezed Carlos’ shoulder, “my son, you are only fifteen. It is sad that sickness damaged your ears, but your life is just beginning.”

“How can I be a pianist if I cannot hear the music?”

Papa opened a varnished wooden box containing tubes of color and various sized brushes. “Your art teacher says you show gran potential.”

Rolling one of the brushes between his fingers, a slow smile spread Carlos’ lips. His heart raced as he stroked an imaginary canvas. “I will paint todo el mundo, the whole world.”

___

51 years later, in 1958, Delilah Mérida’s smile radiated love and pride when the Guatemalan government honored his artistic achievement with the Order of the Quetzal. “My husband makes music for the eyes.”

Carlos Mérida

Click here from más información

***

Although I hope it came through in context, here’s the translation: “No puedo oír la musica. Mi vida se acebó.” -“I can’t hear the music. My life is over.”

HEAD TRIP

Published June 5, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman walks along the docks of Cebu City, Philippines

Feel free to stroll around the area 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.

Another week, another Pegman tour. Thanks to J Hardy Carroll and K Rawson for hosting this weekly challenge.

Fort San Pedro

What writer among us has never suffered from writer’s block?

Genre: Questionable

Word Count: 150

HEAD TRIP

“Señorita Wisoff? Daydreaming again?”

“No, Señor Scott.” I snap my head to attention. A twitter travels around the classroom. My cheeks blaze with embarrassment. “I—I guess I dozed off.”

“Can you tell me which explorer landed in Cebu in 1521 and converted Rajah Humobon and his queen to Christianity?”

“Vasco de Gama?”

“Guess again. This explorer met his death soon after.”

“Pope John?”

“Where’s your homework, Señorita?”

Sweat trickling down my backbone, I open my notebook to a page of scrawled sentences. “I did my deberes gramáticas.”

Eyes aflame, my high school Spanish teacher rips out my paper and holds it aloft. “You see, class, what comes of not paying attention.”

Suddenly I’m up to my knees in Pacific Ocean, surrounded by angry natives wielding bamboo spears.

“Holy Magellan! What a nightmare!” Snapping open my eyes, I kick off the bedcovers. “What on earth can I write for Pegman?”

A STONE FOR THE JOURNEY

Published May 29, 2017 by rochellewisoff

For Memorial Day Weekend, Pegman walks through Kanchanaburi War Cemetery in Thailand.

Feel free to stroll around the area 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 J Hardy Carroll and Karen Rawson for hosting this writing challenge.

A hearty thank you to those who made the ultimate sacrifice for the freedoms we so richly enjoy. May their memories be blessing.

So…this is the photo I chose from the Pegman menu. I confess to being a bit of a renegade on this one. My story has nothing to do with Kanchanaburi or A. Rosenberg. You may recognize the characters in this story if you’ve read any of my books. 😉 However, this piece isn’t in any of them.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

A STONE FOR THE JOURNEY

The rabbi shut his prayer book. “May HaShem grant us strength to see beyond our sorrow and may the name of Sarah Tulschinsky be blessed.”

Havah gazed at her sister-in-law’s newly unveiled headstone. Had it really been a whole year since the gentle woman who had welcomed Havah to America succumbed to pneumonia? She placed a large pebble on the marker.

Sarah’s nine-year-old son Jeffrey tugged at Havah’s sleeve. “Auntie, why do we put rocks on graves when Christians put flowers on them?”

Kneeling, she wrapped her arm around his shoulders. “What happens after you pick a flower?”

“It turns brown and dies.”

“Can a rock die?”

“Huh-uh.”

“A stone is eternal, like your mama’s soul. The more stones you see on a person’s grave, the more he or she has been remembered.”

Jeffrey opened his clenched fist and dropped a handful of pebbles. “I will never forget you, Mama.”

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

BE IT EVER SO DYSFUNCTIONAL…

Published May 22, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman walks through Portal, ND

Bizzy bizzy weekend so I’m late for the party, but I just can’t seem to avoid it. I’m not sure if it’s the lure of choosing my own prompt, since I choose the prompts for Friday Fictioneers. 😉 Nonetheless, it’s different and if the muse tells me a story I havta write it. Write? Of course, write!

Feel free to stroll around the area using the Google street view and grab any picture you choose to include in your post. Many thanks to J Hardy Carroll and K Rawson for hosting.

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.

The photo is a house in North Portal, Saskatchewan. My choice from Pegman’s smorgasbord.

Genre: Historical Faction

Word Count: 150

BE IT EVER SO DYSFUNCTIONAL, THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE EMOH

Elise picked up a magazine from the end table and flipped through the pages, stopping at an article about Portal, North Dakota. “Lovely place. Looks safe.”

“Let’s start where we left off.” Audrey peered over her reading glasses. “Tell me more about your childhood.”

“Idyllic. I drank from garden hoses and bought spoon malts from the ice cream man.”

Audrey’s mouth twisted to one side. “Last week you told me your uncle forced you to—”

“Did I ever tell you about my dog Ami? Odd little Beagle. Hated to be petted.”

“Evasive.” Audrey wrote on her clipboard. “Tell me more about the fights at the diner.”

Memories flooded Elise. Four years old again, she huddled under a table.

Dad lunged at Mom. “You selfish bitch!”

Mom hurled a napkin holder, clipping his forehead. “I hate you!”

Elise bit her trembling lip. “Aside from that, I had a perfect childhood.”

CAST FROM HER FATHER’S HOUSE

Published May 15, 2017 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman takes us to Cirque de Navacelles, France. This week’s location was suggested by JS Brand.

Many thanks to K Rawson and J Hardy Carroll for hosting this unique challenge.

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:

This challenge has become a favorite of mine and I couldn’t bear to miss it this week. This weekend has been an incredibly busy one. And as I’m working toward Book Four of my trilogy (coffee table companion book of illustrations and character studies), I hope you’ll forgive my posting an excerpt from my first novel PLEASE SAY KADDISH FOR ME.

While the photo I chose is in Cirque de Navacelles, my story is not.

Genre: Novel Excerpt

Word Count: 149

CAST FROM HER FATHER’S HOUSE

Rocks, frozen grass and thorns stabbed the soles of her bare feet. There had been no time for shoes, no time to dress.

Who would pray for their souls? Who would remember David, the artist or Mendel, the poet or Mama or Papa? She forced her heavy mouth to shape the Hebrew prayer—Kaddish—prayer for the dead and prayer for the bereft.

“‘Magnified and sanctified is your great Name…’”

Havah Cohen detested its beauty. Her hands, held over her ears, could not blot out the anguished cries of friends and neighbors, fast becoming memories.

“‘…in the world which you have created…’”

Thorns grabbed at her nightgown and she fought to ignore the fire in her lungs. “‘…according to Your will.’”

Run.

Brambles ripped into her flesh.

Run.

The muscles of her legs burned.

Don’t stop. Run.

“‘Let His great name be blessed forever and to all eternity.’”

IT’S NO SECRET

Published May 8, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman visits Yorkshire Dales.

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:

A busy weekend and a case of writers’ block made me late to the party this week. As always a hearty ‘thank you’ to Karen Rawson and J Hardy Carroll.

When I saw that we’re in Yorkshire this week, my mind went to one of my all-time favorite books, ‘The Secret Garden” by Frances Hodgson Burnett. I searched Google for information about the author who was a progressive woman of her day. Alack and alas, the pieces just wouldn’t come together for a biographical flash. As a child and, even now, I like to daydream sequels. So today, just for grins and giggles, I dashed one off.

The photo I chose is a garden in Yorkshire Dales.

Genre: Daydreamed Conception

Word Count; 150

IT’S NO SECRET

Colin sniffed a rose. “Springtime in Yorkshire. I miss it.”

Mary knelt to pull a weed from her uncle’s grave. Standing, she brushed dirt and leaves from her swollen belly. “He loved this garden so. If it’s a boy we’ll name him Archibald. ”

Dickon kissed her. “A grand name our little ‘un.”

Colin’s eyes welled. “There’s magic in this place.”

Mary swallowed. “Must you go?”

Colin squared his broad shoulders. “I’ll stay until the christening, Cousin Mary. My patients depend on me.”

At that moment, a woman with gleaming curls entered the garden and embraced Mary. “Am I late?”

“I hope no one minds,” said Mary. “I invited Teresa to dinner.”

Colin flushed. “Pleased to meet you—Teresa.”

“Dr. Craven.” She offered her hand. “Mary says you have a thriving practice in London.”

“I—I’m moving back here soon.”

Dickon’s lips curved upward. “Aye, there’s magic in this place.”

*