Character Study – Valerica Dietrich

Although she [Havah] had dusted it many times, a faded photograph in a silver frame caught her attention. A woman with pale curls around her face smiled at her from under a lace bridal veil. She lifted the picture from the table beside the piano.

            “What was she like?”

            “My Valerica.”  He took the picture from her. Then, holding it to his chest, he propped an elbow on the piano and rested his head on his hand. “Kolyah introduced us.”

            “Dr. Nikolai?”

            “She was his wife’s best friend. Do you believe in love at first sight, Havah?”

            Not waiting for an answer, he continued. His spirit seemed to travel to a distant time and place. Tears shimmered in his eyes. “Valerica Dietrich. She was always the picture of fashion. But, if you ask me, she could’ve worn flour sacks and still have turned heads.

                               ~~From Please Say Kaddish for Me

“Have you heard from your professor?”

“I got a letter this morning.” Havah took an envelope from her pocket. “How is he?”

“He’s so lonesome. Oh, he doesn’t say so, but I can tell by the way he talks about his wife and how much he misses her. She’s been gone thirteen years. It’s a pity he never remarried.”

              ~~From From Silt and Ashes

Published by Argus Publishing

Represented by Loiacono Literary Agency

Original Artwork © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

It was for his Romanian wife, Valerica that Ulrich moved to Kishinev, Moldova. Her death in childbirth dealt him a terrible blow from which he has never recovered. In Please Say Kaddish for Me, to keep her memory alive, Ulrich still has all of her belongings and refuses to sell the house they shared.

However, after experiencing anti-Semitic oppression and the carnage of the pogrom, he can no longer bear to remain in Kishinev.

As From Silt and Ashes opens he has sold the house and moved to London where he teaches at the Royal Academy of Music. Valerica’s wedding photo is ever by his piano for, as he’s told Havah, “She had music in her eyes.”

The Sequel to

Both Available at

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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 or my website RochelleWordArt.

 

8 August 2014

 

 

The next photo is the PROMPT. What does it say to you? Step outside your boundaries and let your imagination take wing! 

My story follows the blue inLinkz buddy that Ali calls Bracken. 

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright-Björn Rudberg

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Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100

WHEN THE NEED ARISES

            It starts with a certain look, and you know it’s over. That’s how it is with Annie and me.

            Without saying a word, she tells me what I don’t want to hear. We’ve both suffered too long and she needs to be free.

            As we hike to our favorite mountain spot to say goodbye I envision life without her.

            “Wish you didn’t have to go, Annie.”

            She wags her tail, and feebly licks my hand. I caress her head, press the muzzle of my pistol against it and pull the trigger.

            Whoever said men don’t cry was full of shit.      

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23 May 2014

• 

• Should someone have severe or hostile differences of opinion with another person it’s my hope that the involved parties would settle their disputes in private.

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• 😉 My story follows the PHOTO PROMPT BELOW and link tool. I enjoy honest comments and welcome constructive criticism. 😀

• 

  PHOTO PROMPT Copyright – Erin Leary

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Genre: Literary Fiction

Word Count: 100

AFTER THE WORSE

            “Cheryl, I want a divorce,” he said.

            “I just need more time.”

            “I can’t do this anymore.”   

             After David left I found a grief website where I met Keith who’d also lost a baby to SIDS.

            “My wife blamed me, Julie.”

            “She was in pain, Keith. She didn’t mean it.”

            “How do you know?”

            “Trust me.”

            We never shared photos, but our conversations grew more intimate. In time we agreed to meet in a nearby park.

            As the fog lifts I see my true love for the first time. His tear-filled brown eyes engulf me.

            “David?”

            “I love you, Cheryl.” 

5 July 2013

WELCOME TO FRIDAY FICTIONEERS. 

As always, writers are encouraged to be as innovative as possible with the prompt and 100 word constraints. 

Henry David Thoreau said it best.

“It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.”

********

THE CHALLENGE:

Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end. (No one will be ostracized for going over or under the word count.)

THE KEY:

Make every word count.

THE RULES:

• Copy your URL to the Linkz collection. You’ll find the tab following the photo prompt. It’s the little white box to the left with the blue froggy guy. Click on it and follow directions. This is the best way to get the most reads and comments.
• MAKE SURE YOUR LINK IS SPECIFIC TO YOUR FLASH FICTION. (Should you find that you’ve made an error you can delete by clicking the little red ‘x’ that should appear under your icon. Then re-enter your URL. (If there’s no red x email me at Runtshell@aol.com. I can delete the wrong link for you).
• •  Make note in your blog if you’d prefer not to have constructive criticism.
  • REMINDER: This page is “FRIDAY FICTIONEERS CENTRAL” and is NOT the place to promote political or religious views. Also, you are responsible for the content of your story and policing comments on your blog. You have the right to delete any you consider offensive.

  **Please exercise DISCRETION when commenting on a story! Be RESPECTFUL.**

  Should someone have severe or hostile differences of opinion with another person it’s my hope that the involved parties would settle their disputes in private.

• • Like us on Facebook
• 😉 My story follows the photo and link tool. I enjoy comments and relish constructive criticism. 😀
• Shalom,

              Rochelle

• 

  Copyright – David Stewart

  Special thanks to those who have contributed photos. I’m building up quite a library. And on that note, I have a request. Please when emailing your jpgs (some have sent more than four at once) put your name on it somehow. I’m not always the most organized nor do I have the best memory. So far I think all are named and accounted for. Thanks. Don’t stop sending them. 

   

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Genre: Literary Fiction

Word Count: 100

IN THE BALANCE

            Cold metal ladder-rungs dug into Melinda’s bare feet. She shivered as icy wind tugged at her robe.

            Like jetsam in a whirlpool, disjointed images swirled through her mind; anniversary flowers delivered in the morning followed by somber uniformed officers in the afternoon bearing unthinkable news. Her husband, Grant, dead—a sniper’s bullet.

            No one left to live for; she stepped onto the roof and studied the rock-strewn ground below. Breath held, she inched toward the edge.

            Suddenly, her unborn child kicked for the first time.

            Melinda shrank back.

            Grant’s voice whispered on the wind, “Take good care of our son.”