SHIKAKO

Published April 29, 2017 by rochellewisoff

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:

They say location is everything. Many thanks to Karen Rawson and her highly significant other, J Hardy Carroll for hosting and sharing a new location to challenge us every week.

Chicago River

Some reading might remember this story from Friday Fictioneers two years ago. I took the liberty of revisiting and adding fifty words to it.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

SHIKAKO

“Place Where the Skunk Weed Grows”

Catherine DuSable walked along the shore of the Eschikagou while her beloved Jean-Baptiste slept. Today a steady stream of customers had come to their trading post to buy and sell. Usually she enjoyed the stories they shared.

One trapper eyed her. “What you want for that fine squaw, Monsieur DuSable?”

“My wife is not for sale.”

She raised her hands to the sky and danced beside the waters, shaking off the trapper’s leering image.

“Mama, I can’t sleep.”

She turned to see Susannah whose tight black curls and dark skin glowed in the moonlight. So like her father. Catherine scooped the child into her arms.

“When I was little I prayed to Kichi Muhnido, the Great Spirit, for peaceful dreams.”

“You mean St. Raphael. Papa says…”

“For him I am Catholic, but in my heart of hearts I will always be Kitihawa, of the Bodéwadmi, keepers of the sacred fire.

Click Here for a bit of Background

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

ETHNOLOGIC

Published April 24, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman is visiting Peleliu.

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 Karen Rawson and her highly significant other J Hardy Carroll

My choice from the Pegman Buffet

After spending two hours watching videos about Palau’s history, politics and current world status I ended up writing about a former coworker. This is the story that wouldn’t leave. I write about her in the past tense only because I’m gleefully retired from cake decorating. The story is mostly true. 😉

Genre: Anecdote

Word Count: 150

ETHNOLOGIC

Ivonne was one of the most exasperating decorators I worked with during my off-and-on bakery career. While creative and talented, she would be quick one day and move with glacial speed the next with nothing in between.

This is not to say I didn’t like her. I did. She had a keen sense of humor and an easy smile. With kinky hair and dark skin, I assumed the obvious, until the day her mother came to the shop to visit her—a diminutive lady with almond eyes and straight black hair.

“What’s her nationality?” I asked Ivonne. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Nah. I’m used to it.” She tilted her head and stared off in the distance. “Dad was stationed in Palau. I was never black enough or Micronesian enough. Now I have two children who are all that and half Caucasian. What race does that make them?”

“Human.”

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

ACT OF GOD

Published April 16, 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.

Many thanks to Karen Rawson and her highly significant other J Hardy Carroll for co-hosting this challenge.

One of the differences you might notice in my Pegman stories is that my stories do fit the prompt more closely than in Friday Fictioneers. The difference is that participants in this challenge can ‘make the punishment fit the crime.’ 😉 In other words, as long as we stay in the vicinity, we can choose the photo we want to use. Not to mention, there’s the sheer luxury of 50 more words. 😀

Today Pegman takes us to Christchurch, New Zealand

No surprises. My story is Historical Fiction. A little more recent than most, this takes place in Christchurch on February 22, 2011 when the city was shaken to its foundation by a 6.3 magnitude earthquake.

Word Count: 150

ACT OF GOD

Sack full of cardboard containers in hand, I pushed the restaurant door open with my foot. The aroma of soy sauce and seafood made my empty stomach growl.

I shoved the dog that blocked my path. “Out of my way! You’ll make me late for work.”

Her ribs practically poked through her black fur. “Poor thing.” I reached into my sack and pulled out a piece of shrimp. “Now scat!”

Moments later, amid screams, barking and smashing glass, I lay trapped under piles of debris.

Two weeks later, following extensive surgery, my right leg and life as I knew it were memories. 185 of my coworkers at CTV had perished.

The authorities wanted to euthanize the dog for she’d lost her hind legs. I couldn’t let them, could I?

Today, Awhina the Wonder Dog shares my home. Looking back over the past two years, I ask myself, who saved whom?

Note: Awhina, pronounced ‘Afeena,’ is a name that means ‘help or support’ in the Maori language. Kia Ora and thank you for reading. 😀

QUEEN OF THE ILLYRIAN SEA

Published April 9, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman takes us to Dubrovnik, Croatia.

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 Karen Rawson and her highly significant other J Hardy Carroll for hosting this refreshing prompt challenge.

Below is my prompt of choice. 🙂

Word Count: 150

Genre: Speculative Fiction

QUEEN OF THE ILLYRIAN SEA

The sea laps against the shores of former Ragusa, Yugoslavia, now Dubrovnik, Croatia.

In the words of exiled sixteenth century Portuguese poet, Yeshaya Cohen, “If I had to find a peaceful place to rest in my old age, above any other city I would fancy only Ragusa.”

Although it sounds boastful, I must tell you I have survived two earthquakes and several major wars.

Torah scrolls within my Holy Ark, Moshe Rabaynu’s words inscribed on lamb skin, are centuries old. A handful of the faithful still worship the God of Avraham, Yitzhak, and Ya’akov within my formidable 700-year-old walls.

Humans can’t see my tears, but I’ve shed many. They seeped between the stones and juddered my walls when I helplessly watched beloved Rabbi Baruch being taken captive by swastika-ed guards. Babes in arms perished with him on the Island of Rab.

Despite harassment and persecution, like my people, I stand.

Inquiring minds click here.

TO BOLDLY GO WHERE NO AUTHOR HAS GONE BEFORE

Published April 1, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Today, April 1st, Pegman takes us 225 million kilometers to Mars.

Feel free to stroll around the area using the Google street view and grab any picture you choose to include in your post. Be sure to wear your helmet, and watch out for storms!

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 Karen Rawson for hosting this mission to Mars.

Happy April One-eth. So it should surprise me that our host should choose a place like Mars? Below is my choice from the Pegman Prompt Buffet and my story, submitted for your approval.

Genre: Memoir and Musing

Word Count: 150

WHERE NO AUTHOR HAS GONE BEFORE

In the 1950’s, my parents, who owned a restaurant in downtown KC, would hand my brother a few dollars and say, “Jeff, take your sister to the movies.” This afforded them a couple of child-free hours.

Jeff chose the movies. I never minded. We saw them all—The Mysterians, Forbidden Planet, and so on—while munching popcorn and jujubes. I don’t remember being bothered by the fact that, in many of the flicks, the actors’ lips didn’t sync with the dubbed voices.

When I turned eleven, Jeff introduced me to “The Martian Chronicles.” I fell in love with Bradbury’s golden eyed, bronzed skinned Martians.

My love for sci-fi has continued over the years. Yet, my writing hasn’t bent much in that direction. Heinlein I’ll never be.

However, given the unprecedented popularity of “The Martian,” perhaps I’d attract a larger audience if I’d written, “Please Say Kaddish for Me on Mars.”

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In any event, if you do like historical fiction about the Jewish pogroms in Eastern Europe at the turn of the twentieth century you might enjoy my trilogy 😉 :

THE VIRTUES OF SIMPLICITY

Published March 26, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman takes us to Nassau, Bahamas

How I wish this trip could be made in person. A virtual trip will have to suffice for now. The photo below is my choice from the Pegman Buffet. 😉

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

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 150

THE VIRTUES OF SIMPLICITY

“I’m tired of cartoons,” said the little girl with round eyes the color of ripe cocoa plums. “Tell me a story, Great-Grandpa.”

He clicked off the television. “Soul-destroying nonsense. Shall I tell you about Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Tell me what it was like when you were a boy in the Bahamas.”

He gathered her onto his lap. “We were so poor we didn’t have a telephone or electricity or even indoor plumbing. But we had the bluest skies at our temples and the ocean at our feet.”

“What did you do for fun?”

“I climbed trees, ate wild bananas and went swimming almost every day.”

“You were lucky! Did you ever go to the movies?”

“I didn’t even see a movie until I was twelve.”

“And now you’re a movie star like Denzel Washington.”

Sidney Poitier kissed his great-granddaughter. “Nah, I’m just an ordinary guy.”

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Sidney Poitier in one of my favorite films, “To Sir with Love”in 1967

Sidney Poitier receives the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 2009

LORD OF ALL BEASTS

Published March 20, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman takes us to Kampala, Uganda .

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 K Rawson for hosting this challenge that I can’t seem to resist.

Due to another insanely busy weekend and no extra head space, I’m a bit late for the party. This was a learning experience for me.

My prompt selection from the Pegman Buffet

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

LORD OF ALL BEASTS

Assa handed the young woman a package filled with herbs. “Put these in your tea and, in less than a year, you will hold your little one in your arms, Dembe.”

Dembe’s full lips spread into a smile and her dark cheeks shone with tears. “Thank you, I hope he will be a strong, handsome boy like yours, Mrs. Dada.”

“Call me Mzazi, for I am not longer a wife, only a mother.”

Gazing out the window, Assa watched her ten-year-old son trudge up the dusty road. His slow pace and stooped shoulders told her he was weary from a day of working in the fields. This would not be so had Andreas not cast them out, swearing the child was not his. Her anger burned white-hot.

“Jambo, Miss Dembe.” He bowed as he entered the house.

Hugging her package to her chest, Dembe nodded. “Jambo yourself, Bwana Idi Amin.”

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MAZEL TOV BEGORRAH

Published March 13, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman takes us to Dublin .

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.

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

Thanks to Karen Rawson for running the show.

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Sorry to be so late this week. I had a busy weekend and really didn’t think I’d make it at all. However the Pegman Force is strong and resistance was futile. Below is my choice from the Pegman Prompt Buffet.

Genre: Anecdote

Word Count: 150

MAZEL TOV BEGORRAH

My mother cradled my newborn son in her arms. “Look at his Yiddishe punim. If you couldn’t have a girl, the least you could’ve done was name him after my father of blessed memory. Sam’s a good name.

I grimaced. “It’s not like I had control over the sex, Mom.”

She glowered and I could pretty much read her mind as soon as the words “control” and “sex” left my mouth. Her opinion of my marrying a goy was no secret.

“You can always come home,” she often reminded me—until the day I announced my pregnancy.

Despite her objections and disappointments, over the years Mom grew to accept her son-in-law and adore her grandson. No matter what, she insisted on calling him Sammy.

“What kind of name is Shannon for a Jewish boy?”

What better name for a baby born the day before St. Patrick’s day?

SCHUHLEDER

Published March 4, 2017 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman walks through a St. Louis neighborhood.

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.

Since I chose the destination this week, I had no choice but to write a story. Right? Of course, right!

Even at 150 words…50 over my normal flashes, I found myself wishing for more. 😉 Below is my choice of prompt. It brought back some wonderful childhood memories.

Genre: Mostly Memoir-Some Fiction

Word Count: 150

SCHUHLEDER

Compared to our ranch-style house in Kansas City, George Weinberg’s two-story in St. Louis seemed a veritable palace. I looked forward to sojourns with our cousins in the early 1960’s.

Although George’s wife Carla, a German refugee, was generous and an impeccable housekeeper, her cooking left something to be desired—taste. We didn’t dare complain. Carla had survived unbelievable hardship and she meant well, but how can a person ruin hamburgers?

The summer I turned fifteen, Mom had dental surgery. Granting her request to be left alone, Dad took me to our favorite getaway for an overnight.

It was dark when he woke me. “There’s a great diner around the corner.”

Alas, Carla stood at the foot of the stairs, platter in hand. “Guten morgen!”

“Pancakes?” Dad’s stomach let out an audible whimper. “You shouldn’t have.”

“Nonsense. I should let my guests leave hungry?”

What’s the German word for ‘cowhide?’

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!

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.

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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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