12 December 2025

Published December 10, 2025 by rochellewisoff

The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

In this week’s prompt we are in an alleyway between two stone walls. Lights are strung across the arched entry. There are picnic tables and a bench.

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Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

HANUKKAH IN WESTERBROOK

“Aviva,” said Bubbie, “what are the letters on the dreidel?”

“Noon, Gimmel, Hey, Shin,” I replied. (נ,ג,ה,ש)

“What do they stand for?”

“Nes Gadol Hayah Sham. A great miracle happened there.”

“What miracle?”

“When there was only enough oil to keep the ancient Temple Menorah lit for one day and it burned for eight.”

Bubbie brushed a tear from her withered cheek. I knew where her mind had gone.

“We were young and brave.” She shrugged. “Or maybe just foolish. Leo lit the candles on the menorah. The light gave us hope in a very dark place. A great miracle indeed.”

*Hebrew letters read from right to left.

Happy Hanukkah to those who celebrate. © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

21 November 2025

Published November 19, 2025 by rochellewisoff

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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

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Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

JULY 10, 1945

Teresa Fletcher breathed in the aroma of apple pie. “Do you think they’ll like my fried chicken?”

“Considering the slop they’ve probably had to eat; your cooking will seem like fine dining.” Bob grinned.

She beamed at her new husband with pride. For three years he’d taken care of Al and Mary’s farm ignoring slurs, threats, and even attacks from the townspeople.

When the Tsukamotos entered, Teresa opened her arms wide and cried, “Welcome home!”

“Our house looks better than when we left!” Mary hugged the newlyweds. “Why’d you do this for us?”

Bob shrugged. “It was the right thing.”

Mary and daughter Marielle Tsukamoto

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15 April 2021

Published April 14, 2021 by rochellewisoff

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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.

PHOTO PROMPT © Anne Higa

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AGENT 3844

Heart pounding, Virginia Hall caught her breath and massaged her aching hip. “That was a close call. Cuthbert, you’re always causing trouble.”

“You’ve named your wooden leg?” Virginia’s fellow agent, Armand, found a table in a darkened tavern. “Here. Rest fast.”

She forced a smile. “I was sure the Gestapo recognized me from the poster.”

“The artist certainly captured your likeness. But your disguise is good.”

“Perhaps not good enough.”

The tavern keeper brought two glasses of wine.

“It is my honor to serve with you.” Armand raised his glass. “To the lady who limps. Most dangerous of Allied spies.”

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HALLEL

Published April 11, 2020 by rochellewisoff

Today Pegman takes a trip back to the old country, Polanczyk Poland. As always, your mission is to roam around using Google Street View until you find something that inspires you to write up to 150 words, then share your finished work with the other prompt participants. Remember that reading and commenting is part of the experience!

Do your best, and have fun!

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Thanks to Josh and Karen for the challenge!

What can I say? It’s Poland and Passover. חג פסח שמח to those who celebrate.

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 150

HALLEL

Bubbeh Sylvia’s silver-white hair gleams in the candlelight. Her eyes are sparkling blue clouds and her withered cheeks glow. “Papa loved it here. At night he took us for moonlight boat rides on Lake Solina.”

At her insistence, we’ve come to Poland so she can see her homeland one last time. After days touring the gorgeous countryside, we settle in to celebrate Passover with her brother Vladek, who bought the house from Jan Buszko and built a resort in Polanczk after the war.

“Remember how excited you were when you caught your first fish, Sylvie?” He chuckles.

I add a fifth question to the traditional four. “Uncle Vlad, why are we celebrating in this musty old cellar instead of your dining room.”

Tears do not dim his smile. “Where else, bubbeleh? For in this very cellar Adonai used the Buszkos to deliver us from the most despicable pharaoh of all.”

***

*Hallel, part of the Passover celebration, means Praise

*Bubbeleh is a Yiddish term of endearment.

Click here for a 7 minute explanation of the meaning of the Passover Seder from Mayim Byalik