Inside the Mind of Isadora


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Friday Fictioneers – My Herb Garden

Although weakened by her chronic arthritis, she managed to make her usual egg, toast and coffee breakfast.

She enjoyed her quiet mornings. She’d never thought she would. Age had greatly slowed her vitality.

Eyeing her window garden, the sun shone brightly on it. She cherished it. Thomas had planted the herbs for her. 

He was the sweetest caring grandson. He’d told her to add the herbs to her salads and foods everyday. He’d said they’d help with her arthritic pain. They did. 

She’d never been much of a gardener but would hate to disappoint Thomas if they didn’t continue to grow.

2018©Isadora DeLaVega

 

Genre: Flash Fiction

Word Count: 100 Words

Photo Prompt©Rondo El Baccio

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Friday Fictioneers – Job Hunting

From their bench, Vincenzo and Guiseppe take in the activities of everyday life. 

“Vincenzo, I gotta get a job.” 

“Why? We can show tourists around like we always do.”

“For tips and grins? Mama’s gonna kill me if I don’t get a job,” 

“Get out of this funk, Guiseppe, you’re starting to bore me.”

“Mama gave me 6 bucks for lunch. She told me, I better have a job when I go home today.”

“Hey, I got 4 bucks. Let’s go get a bottle of Chianti.”

“I guess I can look tomorrow.”

“Let’s go, Guisep, before you change your mind.”  

2018©Isadora DeLaVega

 

Genre: Flash Fiction

Word Count: 100

Photo Prompt: Fatima 

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Friday Fictioneers – The Class Trip

The crowd increased with every passing minute.

Deidra hated crowds. 

She felt the air disappearing around her.

Misty’s teacher had insisted all students attend the ceremony. 

“Extra credit for anyone who takes a snapshot of President Trump.”

Deidra turned to her daughter.

“Look, I’ve got to get some air. I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

Deidra felt panicked anxiety.

She heard gunshots.

A guard grabbed her arm.

Deidra turned. 

He pulled tightly as she tried to release his grip.

“Ma’m, please,” he said. “I think your daughter’s been shot.”

“Misty?”

“Tye-dye jacket; blond hair?”

“Yes!” 

Unbearable, howling anguish cries!

2018©Isadora DeLaVega

 

Genre: Flash Fiction

Word Count: 100

Photo Prompt: Roger Bultot

 

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Friday Fictioneers – Footprints in the Snow

Everyone was beginning to get cabin fever.

How much longer could they be snowed in without tempers flaring?

The wood pile was getting low. Soon, they’d have to go outside and chop some more.

A chill swept through Helga’s spine. It would be her luck to lose when they were choosing who’d collect the fire wood next.

She was happy to be away from them, even for a short time. She couldn’t bear having Niklaus around. He was being crudely salacious.

Helga turned.

Footprints in the snow appeared behind her.

“Niklaus,” she screeched.

Frightened, she ran.

2018©Isadora DeLaVega

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100
Photo Prompt©J-Hardy Carroll

 

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Friday Fictioneers – Flamenco Competition


“Por favor, Renaldo, can we stop all of this practicing. My feet are swollen. My toes ache.”

“Esmeralda, we must practice if we’re going to win the competition.”

“But, it’s snowing and I wish to go home while I still can.”

“The Flamenco has to be perfect; no missteps, we must be flawless.”

“Okay, go, he snarled. Work on your costume and return early tomorrow. No excuses.”

Cautiously, Esmeralda, walked to her car.

From behind she heard a scream.

Quickly, she turned and saw Renaldo sitting on the icy concrete.

With a sheepish grin, she shouted, “No practice tomorrow … right?”

2017©Isadora DeLaVega

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100 words
Photo Prompt:©Magaly Guerrero

 

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~~~~~


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Friday Fictioneers – Gratitude

Although there wan’t any dinner because he’d arrived late, he felt no ill will.

Freshly brewed coffee and donuts were set out for the night. This would be enough for him.

~~~~~~~

The street lights were a warm welcome for the oncoming damp chilly night.

The lamppost, near his favorite bench, the ideal place to secure the fine bicycle he’d found at the Salvation Army today. The boots fit him perfectly, too. He was happy the saleswoman had given him this woolen blanket as he left.

Soon sleep. And, another day would have been lived.

God, he thought, life was grand.

2017©Isadora DeLaVega

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100
Photo Prompt:©Jellicos Stationhouse

 

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Friday Fictioneers – Changing Marina

As soon as we approached the marina in St. Thomas, I could see his face turning red.

“Do you see this Laura Lee?”

“Yes, I do Max.”

“Things are changing. I used to love this little marina. Now, it’s always under construction and overcrowded with boats in every little space. It won’t be long before we won’t have a dock for our sailboat. I can recall when we’d be the eye candy for all who loved a good looking sailboat. Now, we can barely navigate around these obstacles.”

“Max, lookout. There’s a cruise ship coming; starboard side.”

Crunch

Man overboard.

2017©Isadora DeLaVega

 

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100
Photo Prompt:©Fatima Fakier Deria

 

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Friday Fictioneers – Hell or Opportunity


Stoic, Carmen sat in the back of the taxicab.

She scrutinized farms and gated mansions they passed.

Her parents told her she was going to the small town where her mother was raised.

But, this was her senior year.

How could they?

Why?

No answers.

Irrational gibberish about going back to her roots; her roots not mine.

“You’ll attend the Benedictine Catholic Academy: Nuestra Señora de la Valvanera.”

“Your great aunt will care for you.”

Carmen wept uncontrollable. The trauma was tearing her apart.

“How dare you question this opportunity,” her mother sneered.

“But, why?”

“Because, we know what’s best.”

2017©Isadora DeLaVega

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100
Photo Prompt:©Hardy Carroll

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Friday Fictioneers – Muse of You

Humming, ‘Windmills of Your Mind’ ,
Hans Vansbo stood back to view the geometric precision of his latest creation.

Round like a circle in a spiral. Like a wheel within a wheel.
Never ending or beginning on an ever spinning wheel …

“Paragon,” he whispered to himself.

“Clearly Hans, this song from your broken relationship has influenced you more then it should.”

“I don’t have time to examine your implications”, retorted Hans.

“But will it sell?”, chimed his dealer. “You need a buyer”.

“It did sell.”

“The curator for the Sven Gallery called. It’s been purchased to be exhibited in their garden.”

2017©Isadora DeLaVega

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100
Photo Prompt: ©Jennifer Pendergast

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Friday Fictioneers – Not Candice Anymore

friday-fictioneers-611-123016-shaktiki-2

She could see Marcus in his white Escalade. He made sure all his girls were where they were supposed to be. Stay warm, baby, Candy’s bringing you what you want. Money …

~~~~~

How did she get in this mess? She’s from Connecticut. We’re good girls.
Me?  I’m the rebel. I never follow rules.

Candace could see no way out. She wasn’t Candace anymore.

~~~~~

“Hey Darlin’, lookin’ for some fun?”

“Sure, baby”.

“Let’s go for a ride.”

~~~~~

The bright marquee lit the seedy motel. The room stank of smoke and sweat.

~~~~~

Thug!

If he hadn’t pulled the knife, Marcus wouldn’t have shot.

2016©Isadora DeLaVega

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100 words
Photo Prompt©Shaktiki Sharma

 

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