4 September 2015

Published September 2, 2015 by rochellewisoff

Snorkeling in St. Thomas

Undersea St. Thomas 4 Meme

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The following photo is the PHOTO PROMPT. Tell me in a hundred words or less what story this tells you. 

Note: There were quite a few who went over 100 words last week and felt that they couldn’t cut the excess without sacrificing their stories. I challenged one writer to cut 20 words and he rose to the occasion with skill. Trust me, it can be done. 

PHOTO PROMPT - © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

PHOTO PROMPT – © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields


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Genre: Histrionic Fiction

Word Count: 100

SEPTEMBER 4, 1953

            Warmed by the breeze wafting through the open kitchen window, Evalyne read the Kansas City Star headline.

            “Florence Chadwick swam the English Channel Friday,” she said and turned from the sports page to the crossword puzzle.

            “The same day as our little girl’s birth,” said Bob. “Maybe she’ll beat Miss Chadwick’s record someday.”  

            “One across—six-letter word for storyteller—author. One down—six-letter word for painter—artist. She might be one of those.”  

            The baby cried. Bob jumped up, hurried to the next room and returned with their daughter in his arms.

            “The future’s wide open for our Princess Rochelle.”

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.Future Badass

No plans for the English Channel

No plans for the English Channel

Best two out of three

Best two out of three.

***

Click to learn more about Florence Chadwick

chadwick, florence 003_ibe_165x237

28 August 2015

Published August 26, 2015 by rochellewisoff

The disc and the dragonfly

FIC

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*Note: It is also common courtesy to give the contributor of the photo credit in your post. The next photo in this gallery is the PHOTO PROMPT. Does it suggest a story to you? Tell us in one hundred words or less. My story will follow the inLinkz icon. I enjoy honest feedback and comments. 

PHOTO PROMPT - ©Claire Fuller

PHOTO PROMPT – © Claire Fuller

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

HAINING, JANE; PRISONER NUMBER 79467

            When I was six they sent me to the girl’s home where I found Jane Haining the house matron. Sometimes I had trouble understanding her brogue-accented Hungarian but her love transcended all language barriers.

            She mothered each of us as her own “wee bairns”, whether Jewish or Christian.

            When the Nazis took over Budapest she disobeyed orders and refused to return to Scotland, saying, “If these children need me in days of sunshine, how much more in darkness?”

***

            I study the numbers tattooed on my arm and I’m haunted by the question, “Why did I live and that angel die?”.

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Jane HainingClick here for more. 

21 August 2015

Published August 19, 2015 by rochellewisoff

Another Hightway

Blue Ceiling FF

FF copyright banner finalThe next photo is the PHOTO PROMPT. In a hundred words or less, what story does it tell?

PHOTO PROMPT - © C.E.Ayr

PHOTO PROMPT – © C.E.Ayr

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Genre Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

BEFORE KILROY

            “Papa, tell me about your crazy friend Joseph Kyselak.”

            “Not crazy, eccentric, Ilsa.” I squeeze my daughter’s hand as we walk down the street. “You’ve heard this story a hundred times.”

            “Tell me a hundred and one.”            

            “Very well. Joseph bet me that within three years he would be famous all over Austria.”

            “He is, isn’t he?”  

            I miss his easy laugh, sense of humor, and adventurous spirit. Cholera took him last year, but not before he won the wager. If you visit Austria you’ll see his name everywhere.  

            Ilsa traces the letters Joseph engraved on a nearby wall. “Kyselak”

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Kyselak

Father of Graffiti

14 August 2015

Published August 12, 2015 by rochellewisoff

Flowers from the Hill Thoreau

Erie Canal

FF copyright banner finalThe following photo is the PROMPT. Again, this is another blast from the past which, to most of you, will be a new one. 

PHOTO PROMPT - © Madison Woods

PHOTO PROMPT – © Madison Woods


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There are some flash fictions of mine that I like better than others. This remains one of my favorites. It’s one of the first ten that I wrote when Madison was the chief cat herder. ;) You can find the original post here. 

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

RENDEZVOUS

            Golden arches and a drive-through replaced the baroque beacon on the hill. The French restaurant where we often met is long gone.

            At our special table we shared crème brulée, class notes and anecdotes. Our careers left no room for marriage. He went his way and I went mine.

            Two years later the embossed invitation came. Birth announcements and commencement notices followed me around the world. 

 Thirty summers passed.

            When I read his wife’s obituary I wept.

***

           I reminisce in McDonald’s parking lot. Someone taps my windshield.

            Ink-black hair turned bone-white, Bordeaux in hand, he grins. “You saved our table.”

Character Study – Anzya

Published August 10, 2015 by rochellewisoff

“‘Stir the stew every ten minutes, Princess. Don’t let it burn.’ With a threatening scowl Anzya shoved past her nearly upsetting the laundry. Her mouth made a thin line under her narrow nose. She secured a black shawl over her kerchief.

            “The sour woman seldom spoke and never smiled. Perhaps she had no teeth. When Havah asked Ulrich about her he said she was as much of a mystery as when she first came to work for him a year ago.”

                        ~~Taken from Please Say Kaddish for Me by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Ulrich’s kitchen is completely Kosher because he’s given his Jewish cook, Anzya, free rein. For reasons Havah, doesn’t understand, he is compassionate toward the bitter woman even though she returns his caring with animosity.

            Anzya regards Havah with disdain and sarcastically calls her Princess.  

            At one point in the story, in a fit of anger she asks Havah, “How can you be so friendly to him? How can you let him touch you?”

            “Ulrich? Why don’t you like him?”

            “He’s a goy. Isn’t that reason enough?”

            Anzya will soon understand that Ulrich isn’t just another gentile, nor is Havah a pampered princess.

***

Check out my author page on the Loiacono Website. For all of the character studies thus far, click on the link Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Art and Blogs.

PSK Cover

Available Internationally on Kindle and in Print

If you’ve read and enjoyed, please leave a review on one of these sites. It helps sell books.  ;)

Shalom, 

Rochelle

ANGUS & ROBERTSON      AMAZON    B&N    BAM    BOOKWORLD    FISHPOND     SHELFARI     BOOK DEPOSITORY   WATERSTONES    GOODREADS   IDREAMBOOKS

7 August 2015

Published August 5, 2015 by rochellewisoff

Thoreau NZ birds

Ellehcor Banner FF

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The following photo is the PROMPT. A few of you may recognize it from three years ago, although for most I think it will be new. Due to a current emergency, I’ll be recuperating from oral surgery by the time this post goes live. Next week will also be a repeat to allow more time to visit with out of town guests. So if I don’t answer your comments right away or comment on your story, you’ll know the reason why. Thanks to all of you for your understanding.  

Shalom, Rochelle

PHOTO PROMPT -© Madison Woods

PHOTO PROMPT -© Madison Woods


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I posted the original version of this story May 11, 2012. I’ve taken the liberty of reworking it. The beauty of writing is that there’s always room to grow. If you’d like to read the original click here

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

SLEEPWALK

                   Like a pearl brooch pinned to mottled velvet, the moon shone through a web of tree branches. A desperate voice yelled her name.

                   It was always the same dream. Kanzie would wake with a scream to everyday shadows and feel relieved by her comfortable darkness.

                   Then one night she woke up outside. Mississippi air stuck to her skin like a damp cloak. For the first time in twenty years she saw the trees rustling in the wind. Memories seared her.          

                   Why did white-robed ghosts put that rope around her gentle Daddy’s neck?  His terror-filled eyes drilled her.

                   “Kanzie, don’t look.” 

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Klan-in-gainesville

31 July 2015

Published July 29, 2015 by rochellewisoff

The disc and the dragonfly

Friday Fictioneers Farm Path

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The next photo is the PHOTO PROMPT. Where does it take you? Can you tell us in a hundred words or less with a beginning, middle and end? Ready, set, write!

PHOTO PROMPT © G.L. MacMillan.

PHOTO PROMPT © G.L. MacMillan.

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Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

INSTINCT

            My brother was the valedictorian of his graduating class. Awarded a scholarship to Harvard, he owned the future.

            When his draft notice came I was inconsolable.

            “Duty calls, Sis. I’ll be back.”

            Tonight we celebrate his sixty-fifth birthday. His hands tremble as he cuts the cake. The knife falls from his fingers and tears stream down in his cheeks.

            “I cut off their ears and hung them from a chain on my belt loop.” He swallows a pill with a swig of beer. “Thirty-six kills. God, I miss it.”

            My brother did come back from Vietnam but he never returned.       

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vietnam-veteran-640x636

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vietnam

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