Raining Apples – Friday Fictioneers

It’s time for Friday Fictioneers, where writers across the globe accept the challenge of writing a 100-word story based on a photo. Thanks to our lovely hostess, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, who also provided this week’s photo prompt.

My story this week is semi-autobiographical. I hope you enjoy it.

Feel free to join in the fun and write your own story. Here’s are instructions.

PHOTO PROMPT -© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

(100 words)

Raining Apples

The rain cascaded out the sky like coins clattering the windshield.

Irene felt the presence of her father next to her, who only cautioned,”Slow down. Careful.” She gripped the steering wheel tighter.

Finally, her dad broke the wipers’ mad rhythm and said, “It doesn’t rain like this in California.”

“I can’t see a thing!” Irene laughed and pulled over.

“Hey, any apples left?” he asked.

Earlier they had picked apples, but her father’s bucket had fallen to the ground, bruising most of them.

Who knew they would eat those raining apples in the pouring rain? They couldn’t have tasted better.


For more stories from the Fictioneers, click here.

A Taste of Their Own Medicine – Friday Fictioneers

(March 5,  1911)


“They can eat all the acorns and berries they want in their land of plenty,” Ned said, breathing in the fresh citrus of an orange. “Ancient burial ground, please. If those Indians want it to rain so bad, so be it.”

“Do we really need the Orange Show to happen on this corner? We could prop up tents anywhere.” Mary sighed.

Ned kissed the orange. “Better than gold.”

The promised curse of rain fell in icy, heavy drops on the Orange Show fairgrounds that year, and every year since. While there is still rain, there are no more oranges.


Genre: Historical Fiction (100 words)

Photo copyright: Janet Webb


I was inspired by Rochelle’s story this week, and thought I would try my hand at historical fiction. It’s harder than it looks. I got to hand it to Rochelle!

After reading her story, I thought about the urban legend behind the “Orange Show, which started in San Bernardino in March of 1911.  The urban legend is that the Serrano tribe of Native Americans (I believe it’s the Serrano tribe) put a curse on the Orange Show because it was held on their ancient burial ground, and swore that it would rain each year during its run. History shows that in this first year, it rained every day.

I remember while growing up in the area that the Orange Show was a huge deal, and indeed, it rained every opening day. That’s what I remember. The organizers tried moving the time of the event a few times, and it didn’t matter. It could be sunny skies with no rain in the forecast, and opening day: Rain! It always rained, always. I’ve always believed that the curse was true.

Nowadays, people want the Orange Show every weekend since we need the rain so bad in California, and the rain is more of a blessing than a curse. Still, there are no longer many orange groves, if any, left in the Inland Empire in California. They have been replaced by track homes, development, and dust. What comes around goes around. That I definitely believe in.

Thanks for reading my explanation.

Please visit this link for more stories from the talented Fictioneers. Many thanks to Janet for the photo and to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for leading this group.

A Brief History of Orange Show
History of San Bernardino