Inside the Mind of Isadora


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Friday Fictioneers – Prinsoner Numbers

Last week, I wrote about Bobeshi Rivqah. If you’d like to catch-up click here. This story does stand alone. Ironically, the locked cages in the photograph had the same feel as the ones shown at the Florida Holocaust Museum in Tampa, Florida.

Mama, can I go outside?”

“Go! But, don’t go far.”

From my stoop, I watched Mrs.O’Doherty and Bobeshi Rivqah talking.

“Rivqah, you’re telling me they used the same numbers?”

“Yes, can you believe that?” 

Mrs.O’Doherty shook her head from side to side.

“They reused prisoner numbers from the dead; especially, is if they were moved to another camp,” Rivqah said. “Dehumanizing!” 

Slowly, I made my way towards them.

They were taking about something I’d wondered about.

“Why do you have numbers on your arm, Bobeshi?”

She hugged me and said, “One day, you’ll know kleyn meydl, one day.”

2019©Isadora DeLaVega

 

Genre: Historical

Word Count: 100

Photo Prompt:©JHardy

To join Rochelle and her Friday Fictioneers challenge

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***** Stoop: a porch with steps in front of a house or other building.

***** Prisoner numbers in the system of German Nazi concentration camps. The prisoner numbers have become a synonym of dehumanization that struck the deportees of the concentration camp. These numbers were to serve efficient “management” of camps, performed by the SS teams. ©http://auschwitz.org/

***** kleyn meydl / קליין מיידל – little girl


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Friday Fictioneers – Bobeshi Rivqah

Bobeshi Rivqah lived with her son, Rabbi Gerwitz and his family, above the temple in Brooklyn, New York.

She enjoyed walking and talking with everyone in the neighborhood.

They all knew her as bobeshi. 

Retelling stories from her childhood at the Treblinka concentration camp, often, brought tears from those who listened.

Now, her health was failing; too ill to take walks.

Rabbi Gerwitz asked the congregation for prays for bobeshi. 

Stomach cancer took her before the test results came back.

The congregation overflowed into the street as the family sat shiva. 

Finally, Bobeshi Rivqah had found loving acceptance and peace. 

2019©Isadora DeLaVega

 

Genre: Historical

Word Count: 100

Photo Prompt:©RogerBultot

 

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*********

Rivqah / רִבְקָה – Rebbecca

Bobeshiבאָבעשי – Granny

Shiva / שִׁבְעָה – literally means seven. It is the week-long mourning period in Judaism.


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Friday Fictioneers – Just Once

The study was dreary even with the sun shining through the thin curtains.

‘Just once,’ he’d said.

Part of her wanted to give into his adulterous plan. 

She twisted her wedding band round and round. 

Her heart fluttered with a wave of excitement.

Glancing at the clock, she knew Randall wouldn’t be home for hours.

His empty whiskey glass her justification for the wayward exploit.

The phone rang again.

She picked up the receiver slowly; her yearning greater than her reasoning. 

She could hear his voice was full of desire.

“Once,” she said to him, “just once and never again.”

2019©Isadora DeLaVega

 

 

 

Word Count: 100

Genre: Flash Fiction

Photo Prompt:©Fatima Fakier Deria

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Friday Fictioneers – Sunflower Memories

 

Bright sunflowers had greeted Nadia each time she’d visited her baba Oksana. 

As a small child, she’d watched her grandmother cook traditional Russian meals while recounting tales of her journey to the new land she’d eventually call home.

She’d traveled on a crowded boat with few belongings. The small amount of sunflower seeds she’d brought to eat were almost gone by the time she’d arrived. 

Oksana decided to plant the leftover sunflower seeds in remembrance of her home; left behind.

Imprinted in Nadia’s heart, memories of her baba Oksana’s smile and love of sunflowers.

Nadia planted sunflowers at her grave.

2019©Isadora DeLaVega

Word Count:100 words

Genre: Flash Fiction

Photo Prompt:©Ted Strutz

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Friday Fictioneers challenge: 

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*****The dictionary terms and basic forms for grandfather and grandmother in Russian are dedushka and babushka. They’re often shortened for children to ded (grandfather) or baba (grandmother).


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Friday Fictioneers – The Reunion

 It was Thursday. 

In one more day, I’ll be off to a reunion with friends from my cheerleading days.

We’d been Skyping plans for weeks. 

Checking into the hotel, the exhilaration was palpable. Adjoining rooms was perfect. 

Exhilarated, I unpacked the t-shirts I’d designed,

 ‘Eastern District High School Cheerleaders 1965’

After dinner, donning our t-shirts, we made our way to the football field.

It was the same as it had always been. 

Memories came flooding back. 

We recalled stories.

Raucous laughter and tears flowed. 

Hugs were shared.

Standing in her old spot, Mona was overcome. 

She died smiling.

2019©Isadora DeLaVega

 

Genre: Flash Fiction

Word Count: 100 words

Photo Prompt: Dale Rogerson

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*****I’ve edited the last line to say ‘Died’ instead of ‘Passed’. A writer can learn from other writers many things to improve our writing. Neil @ Neil Macdonald Author thought it was clearer if I changed it. Thanks, Neil.


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Friday Fictioneers – It’s Time to Say Goodbye

 

You left. 

Your books left behind as a reminder of your passion; reading.

 And, I spent time building something that could not be built. 

You showed me I’d counted on the illusion of my heart. 

Yes, perhaps, it’s time to say goodbye my love. 

These words you dared not want to hear. 

For our lives together can’t be built on crumbly silt of sand. 

For it would fall upon itself because we tried and failed, persisting in the dream, because I believed it would succeed.

It’s hard to distinguish whether the world we live in is a reality or delusion.

2019©Isadora DeLaVega

Genre: Flash Fiction

Word Count: 100

Photo Prompt:©CEAyr

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Friday Fictioneers – Bring on the Waves

Belinda was the singer in the group. Tonight, her timing was off.

Could it be too much tequila?

‘Mi Pueblo’ had the most delicious margarita’s. She had to have two.

Each failed attempt at singing left her in giggles. 

She’d needed this night out with friends.

The car accident had left her wheelchair bound.

She’d been depressed about it again. 

Thoughts poured into her head quicker than she could get them out sometimes.

Spontaneously, the raucous group decided on a beach open-air sing-a-long.

They raced to the edge of the ocean.

“Bring on the waves,” Belinda shouted.

2019©Isadora DeLaVega

 

Word Count: 100 words

Genre: Flash Fiction

Photo Prompt©LindaKreger

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Margarita: a beverage served with tequila and other tasty additions.

The glass rim is coated with salt.

 


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Friday Fictioneers – Ready or Not

 8 – 9 – 10

“Ready or not, here I come,” she shouted.

Rosie hated this game. She knew if she didn’t play along they’d ignore her.

Her eyes roamed the central plaza, but they were no where to be seen.

The pretzel vender grinned as she passed in her search. Rosie was sure he knew.

She was struck by the hands covering the eyes of the huge sculpture looming above her. ‘A bit like this game,’ she thought.

Swiftly, hands pulled at her scrawny arms. Before she could turn, her eyes were covered. She wailed.

Then, the sound of screeching tires.

2019©Isadora DeLaVega

 

Genre: Flash Fiction

Word Count: 100 Words

Photo Prompt-©Roger Bultot

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To read more photo prompt stories click here

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*****Hide-and-seek, or hide-and-go-seek, is a popular children’s game in which any number of players (ideally at least three)[1] conceal themselves in a set environment, to be found by one or more seekers.

The game is played by one player chosen (designated as being “it”) closing their eyes and counting to a predetermined number while the other players hide. For example, count to 100 in units of 5 or count to 20, one two three and keep counting up till it reaches twenty. After reaching this number, the player who is “it” calls “Ready or not, here I come!” and then attempts to locate all concealed players.


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Friday Fictioneers – The Honeymoon

Dear Mom & Dad,

I’m sure this ‘Thank You’ note seems quite contrary to my persona, but it’s no-less sincere.

I’ve realized how my past ungrateful behaviors have hurt you. I apologize for it all.

The incredible gala you created for my marriage to Harry left me breathless. 

As I’m sitting on the balcony with this magical view of Portofino, I’m tearful of the years we’ve missed together. Milestone celebrations; each lost along the way.

Your description of our honeymoon get-a-way was on target, to the last detail. 

Spellbound describes how I feel today.

All my love,

Meghan

2019©Isadora DeLaVega 

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Word Count: 100

Genre: Flash Fiction

Photo Prompt: CEAyr

 

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***** The names of the characters in this fiction story is in no way associated with the Royals of England.

          I simply needed two names for my characters. I have no clue about Meghan or Harry’s lives. Thanks 😎


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Friday Fictioneers – Amusement Park Rides

Adults held children while running and screaming in all directions. 

Horror on their faces signaled an unmistakable accident.

Uniformed fair staff and guards gathered everyone to safe zones.

A day of carnival treats and rides; now, the scene of a devastating tragedy.

Shock and terror paralyzed me. 

I’d declined my friends request that morning to chaperone her son, my daughter’s friend, to the fair. With six kids to monitor, I couldn’t manage more.

A round-a-bout chair ride suddenly stopped causing the chain to sever her sons’ leg. 

Amusement parks were off our activities list from that day forward.

2019©Isadora DeLaVega

 

Genre: Short Story

Word Count: 100

Photo Prompt: Dale Rogerson

https://fresh.inlinkz.com/js/widget/load.js?id=b0e9fc3e17d69ad00968

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 in this challenge click here