“The Chinese Screen”

The folding screen
in the window
of the Chinese art gallery
is small
barely two feet high
four feet wide
bordered in black
top and bottom.

It is striking.
My eyes roam the surface
as I luxuriate
in lush brushwork
sparse black-and white
coloration
sensual rhythm
of stems trending right
each ending
in an explosion
of bloom.
My sensibilities
rock.
My body responds
to the stimuli.
I must have the screen.

The shop is closed.
I leave town
in the morning.
I write a note
on the back
of my business card.
I try to explain
the depth of my obsession
in twenty-five words
or less.
How can one communicate
a coup de foudre
on the back
of a 2” x 3 ½” card?

I write in rhyme
hoping to appeal
to the owner’s
aesthetics.

I slide my dreams
under the door.
I turn to leave.
I catch a glimpse
of movement.
I knock.
No answer.
I wait.
Perhaps there will be
a reply.
None.

I return to the window
for one last glimpse
of the object
of my preoccupation.
A hand materializes.
I fill with hope.
Will it beckon me inside?
No.
Instead it removes
the screen
and replaces it
with a sign.
NFS.

I leave deflated
knowing that I
will never own
an emotionally-charged
Chinese screen
with explosive
lotus blossoms
atop sensuous
rhythmic stems
rendered
in the cold
harsh reality
of black and white.
An image
that is
so reminiscent
of my own life story.

(Written for dVersePoets, “Poetics: ‘Asians are Ugly!’”. May 18, 2013.)

Posted in Flash Fiction, Poetry, Short Fiction, Short Story, Micro Fiction | Tagged , , , , , , , | 9 Comments

“No Longer An Ordinary Schoolgirl”: A Fairy Tale.

I pause in front of isolated remnants of Hurricane Sandy’s fury and remember the day Prince Harry came to town. Red-haired and handsome, he looked sad as he surveyed the barren land where homes once stood. I moved in close and had my picture taken with him. I was surprised to find he was relaxed. He chatted with me. He was accessible. He smelled good. He was Mr. Wonderful. And I know that on that glorious day, my life changed. I was no longer an ordinary schoolgirl. Instead, I became, forever, The Girl Who Has Met Her Prince.

(Inspired by “When Harry met Christie:…” The Daily Mail.)

(Photo by Sara Ann Hall. Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, Friday Fictioneers, May 17, 2013.)

Posted in Flash Fiction, Micro Fiction, Short Fiction, Short Story | Tagged , , , , , | 21 Comments

“Into the Night One Day”

My sister, her husband, their young children
Left us to walk into the night one day.
We still don’t know the why, or even when.

Their new car was found with his weekly pay
On the seat with his cell and the kids’ toys.
But we still don’t know why they ran away.

We shout for the safety of their three boys.
For my young sister, the sweet mourning dove.
We still have no clue in spite of our noise.

We pray, but receive no hope from above.
Only a postcard, “From Russia with Love”.

(Written for dVersePoets: “Form for All–Terza Rima and the Terza Rima Sonnet”. May 09, 2013.)

Posted in Flash Fiction, Micro Fiction, Poetry, Short Fiction, Short Story | Tagged , , , , , , , | 19 Comments

Sammy, the Gat: “The Feisty Feline Boots Me From The Catbird Seat”

(Sammy, the Gat, is a continuing story.)

I hit the tarmac, and my new go-to girl, Cat, and I finally cruise into Casablancaville. ETA minus one. The Feisty Feline boots me from the catbird seat and back-alleys us to a seedy sand-spit hotel with a rock-’em-sock-’em fully-stocked saloon. Cat sidles up to a dolly standin’ guard over the bottles who walks Hello Kitty to a side door. I fig I could use a belt from one of those jugs with the uptown labels, so I belly up to the bar and digitize a Stoli. Next thing I know, I’m flat on my puss with an AK 47 nuzzlin’ my think tank. I’m guessin’ C’blancans thumbs-up Russian rat-a-tats, but not their booze.

(Click to catch up on Sammy, the Gat.)

THE GATIONARY of Sammy Speak.

AK 47: n. assault rifle developed in Russia.   catbird seat: n. position of importance.
digitize: v. point finger.   dolly: n. woman.   Hello Kitty: n. Japanese fictional character.
Stoli: n. Stolichnaya (Russian) vodka.

(Photo by Ted Strutz. Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, Friday Fictioneers, May 8, 2013.)

Introducing SAMMY, THE CAT (with a capital C)

Sammy the Cat photo (1)

(Photo by Michael Wittich)

I am Sammy, the Cat, and I was named after that world-renowned hip hit man, Sammy, the Gat. I’m only three weeks old, but as you can see, I’m a pretty ferocious fellow, and with my mentor havin’ already seven notches on his gun butt, I have a first-class rep to match. So far, small insects are my prey, but I see bigger game in my future. Stay tuned.

Posted in Flash Fiction, Micro Fiction, Short Fiction, Short Story | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 27 Comments

Sammy, the Gat: “Even Wonder Woman Needs A Breather”

(Sammy, the Gat, is a continuing story.)

Turns out the kitten’s moniker is Cat, as in Cat Astrophic, a clothes-shedder from the Big Apple–and an in-business shrink and a black-top-burnin’ MotoGP racer to boot. The beauteous Belinda’s been backstaged. Now, the Cat Woman and me, we got us a 28-hour cross-countries to do in 24 on NoDoz. She revs the bike and we blast off.  Speedy Gonzalez bags three clock-chimes in France but loses ten 60-secs in Spain where she stops to eye-to-eye it with an unknown at a fancy box spring designed by a skull-and-bones man. My turn to white-knuckle the handlebars; even Wonder Woman needs a breather.

(Click to catch up on Sammy, the Gat.)

THE GATIONARY of Sammy Speak

bags: v. makes up.  clock-chime: n. hour.   clothes-shedder: n. stripper.
cross-countries
: n. road trip through multiple countries.
fancy box spring: n. high-class hotel.   in-business shrink: n. practicing psychiatrist.
MotoGP: n. championship motorcycle road race.   NoDoz: n. fatigue-fighting pills.

(Photo by Kent Bonham. Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Friday Fictioneers, May 03, 2013.)

Posted in Flash Fiction, Short Fiction, Short Story, Micro Fiction | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

“The Marriage Celebration”

We pile into
The Lincoln stretch.
Nine nurses
Out on the town
Headed for a hotel
To celebrate the marriage
Of one of our own.
We talk
We laugh
We joke around.

“You smell smoke?”
The question hangs
In the closed air
Around us.
“Smoke.”
We tap on the partition
Dividing us from
The driver.

“No smoking”
He says
The radio blaring
In his ear.
We bang
On the glass.
“Pull over”
“Pull over”
We cry.

The smoke
Swirls
Around us
And the car
Glides to a stop.
Legs flail
As bodies
Squeeze through
The opening
Between cab
And passenger seats.

We push to take our turns.
Only four of us
Make it through
To the front seat.
The rear door
Flies open.
Flames
Flicker and flare.

And then
It is over.
No explosion.
No car bodies
Flying through the air
Just fire.
Lethal
Unrelenting
Fire.
And our tortured screams
Which mix
With those
Of our
Five
Trapped friends
Who succumb to
The instant inferno

And now.
Only
A charred carcass
Remains
Of a Lincoln stretch
Which once held
Nine
Lovely ladies
Out on the town
To celebrate
The marriage
Of one of their own.

(“Investigators Seek Answers in Deadly Limo Fire“.)

(Written for dVersePoets, Open Link Night Week 95, May 7, 2013.)

Posted in Flash Fiction, Micro Fiction, Poetry, Short Fiction, Short Story | Tagged , , | 18 Comments

“We Must Not Legitimatize Her Words”

Why do we allow this woman such press?
Why is her picture ingrained in our brains?
Why do we watch as she flails with cold hands?
Why do we stay as she cries against us?
Why do we let her accuse us of murder?

She claims her one son was cruelly killed.
She says that her boys are both innocent.
She states they were framed by authorities.
She ignores the pictures that show the two
Standing in places where bombs were set off.

What does she say of the eight-year old boy
Who was killed by the bomb placed at his feet?
And what of his sister an amputee
A disaster survivor at age six?
Nothing. Instead, she honors terrorists.

We must not provide her with a platform
To espouse the martyrdom of her sons.
She must not become symbolic of love
And loyalty to one’s errant offspring.
We must not legitimatize her words.

(Written for dVerse Poets, Open Link Night 94. April 30, 2013.)

Posted in Flash Fiction, Micro Fiction, Poetry, Short Fiction, Short Story | Tagged , , , , , , , | 11 Comments