Tag Archives: Short Story

Picture Massacre

Friday Fictioneers – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

Picture Massacre

The whole family together; that’s what I’ll do. Put all these pictures into a leather-bound album. I need to sort them; uncles, aunts and the great-great somebodies or another? My brother’s family pictures have survived as has one of Uncle Bert in uniform.  I am not sure how old my mother was then, but the boy on the tractor, well that’s me with Baxter my collie. Oh, here’s Auntie Rose with a Derringer tucked into her fishnets. Was that real?
‘Why us?’
‘Family memories?’ said the nurse.
‘Yea, that’s all I have left.’
‘Okay, we need to change those bandages.’

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Love from Lizard Island

Friday Fictioneers.

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

Lizard Island

From the jetty, I watch the plane skip and skim over the lake. Its engine roaring as it lifts high into the Autumn sky, and like a migrating swan it glides southward towards a warmer horizon.
I suppressed my tears and wave a frantic farewell as pride fills my lungs.  Mary promised to return as she is free from our genetic abnormality.
She will confront the ignorant multitude to overcome the prejudice that holds our people quarantined on this island.
Other teenagers have tried, they never come home.
I stroke the scales on my claws and wonder; will she succeed?

Independence Day Parade

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Independence Day Parade

‘Marcel are you coming.’
‘No, not until I get nuggets.’
‘Get out from under the table. Do you want to see the parade?’
‘Yes, but I want nuggets.’
‘Don’t spoil the holiday, son. We’re going now. Bye.’
‘Wait! I want turkey nuggets.’
‘Mom’s already gone to watch the parade. Now come or stay.’
‘Can you buy me nuggets?’
‘Sorry son, Mom’s taken her purse.’
‘Dad, why do we always have to do what Mom’s says?’
‘Let’s go watch the bands.’
‘Okay. Will Mom buy the nuggets afterwards?’
‘Maybe. Just remember independence and freedom works better, if you’re nice to Mom.’

Infatuation

 

Friday Fictioneers – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

Infatuation

The draft wafted a fragrance of jasmine across the counter: I looked up.
‘Carmen!’
‘Hello Joe, can I have one for the matinee?’ She fumbled in her handbag. ‘Usual seat, please.’
‘One? What’s happened to John?’
‘Please, I am in a hurry.’ She passed over the ten-dollar bill and grabbed the ticket. A silver ring rolled from her purse and fell behind the counter.
‘I’ll get that.’ I held it up as she walked away. ‘Carmen, your ring.’
‘Keep it, throw it. I don’t care.’
She slammed the door as she rushed out.
Yes! Tomorrow, I’ll ask her to dinner.

 

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This week I prepared a basic book trailer for my novel MISSING. It is on my author page, if you would like to watch it..

Author Page- James McEwan

 

Flight to Freedom

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Flight to Freedom

Susan MacKay was travelling to Australia, and to a new teacher’s post in Brisbane.
Her stomach churned; was her flight delayed?
Oh no! She had planned to be airborne when the kitchen exploded into flames and the fire brigade found her husband’s charred remains. Forensics would conclude he died of an overdose and of gas inhalation. Suicide. An insurance payout.
His gambling debts and affairs drove her to a mental breakdown.
“Would Mrs MacKay please report to the information desk?”
She froze. Had he escaped? Did the burning candle not ignite the gas?
“Last call for Mrs MacKay at gate 10C.”

If Ever I Should Sail Away

Friday Fictioneers _ Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple

PHOTO PROMPT © Susan Eames

If Ever.

If ever I should sail away to sea
I’ll search the sun-drenched distant shores
until I find a beating heart in love with me.
Like some rare endangered precious flower,
whose fragrance scent of flirtatious honey
will captivate my mind and soul and body.
In such a paradise I would live to be free,
And I’ll never return to this darn land.
Should I ever sail away, to sea.

Blind Faith

 

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields – Friday Fictioneers

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll 

Chantal was five today, and we played her favourite game.
When she was three someone asked why she didn’t wear a blindfold like everyone else.
‘If the other children wear blindfolds, then I want one too,’ she declared.
I smiled, she needed to be like everyone else, inclusive, and fair.
It was as if she had a sixth sense and pinned the tail on the rear rump of the donkey accurately. How does she do it?
‘I just imagine what you describe. Am I right?’ she said.
Next week her Labrador arrives, and we’ll watch them walk in the park.

 

 

Lady in the Bauble – Literally Stories Re-runs

Literally Stories select a piece from their enormous archive and show case it on their Sunday “Literally Reruns”.

I was surprised this afternoon to find the team had published my story today. Thank you guys and a great thank you to Sharon Frame Gay for selecting it. Have a look at Sharon’s work, click on her name.

Find the story on the link below.

Literally Stories – Lady in the Bauble.

 

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A scene from Sainsbury’s slick Christmas advert recreating the truce

 

Inheritance

Friday Fictioneers – Rochelle Wisoff -Fields

PHOTO PROMPT © Jean L. Hays

Inheritance

The corporation said out. They said no.
An accident? Their charred bodies lay for weeks.
It’s not much. There never was gold in the mine.
It was everything, a chance, just their dream.
What now? It’s impossible to sell.
Then, I’ll evoke their spirits and seek revenge.
I see a lake, hotels, casinos, dance halls, I see roads and an airstrip.
People will come for entertainment and play the games of chance.
I’ll sell them opportunity and aspirations of wealth.
They will come to chase the glitter of fool’s gold.
I will reap the goldmine of hopes and dreams.

On the Run – Scarface Mahoney

Friday Fictioneers

ronda-del-boccio

PHOTO PROMPT © Ronda Del Boccio

On the Run

Scarface Mahoney packed an overnight bag and checked his passport.

No use; the airports will be under surveillance, they’ll be watching the bus station and they know where his Daimler is parked.

He searched the loft and found his old army rucksack. There was nothing for it, he would have to trek across the Rockies and escape into Canada. At least Mugs O’Reilly was still living in that old miner’s shack, he’ll hide out there and somehow; yea, somehow get to Cuba where his retirement $10 million was stashed.

He had to respect the code, he got the message – ‘grass’.