Inside the Mind of Isadora


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Friday Fictioneers – The End of the Road

We bickered about off-road adventures from the moment we made our plane reservations.

“Where’s you sense of adventure?”

“I don’t have any”.

“You promised you’d come along and not gripe. The taxi driver said to follow the dirt road and we’d find the little out-of-the-way hostel”.

“Umm … I’m not an expert hiker but this sign is telling us something”.

“I’ll look down the side of the cliff. You know, get my bearings”.

The panic on his face said it all.

On the jagged black mountain cliff, lay the charming little cottage they called, ‘Sheer Drop Inn’.

2018©Isadora DeLaVega

 

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100
Photo Prompt: Bjorn Rudberg

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Friday Fictoneers – Institutionalized

Venom flowed through her veins. Hate was a mild word for what she felt for him.

She had him taken to an institution. He would be there for life.

Her mother died shortly before he was placed there. Doctors said her frail body was from malnutrition and improper medical care. At 88, she needed home health care. Instead, her mentally challenged son was her only caretaker.

Why was she angry at him?

It helped soothe her guilt.

Banned from his mothers funeral by her, he raged. The perfect storm for him to be taken away.

Lord grant her soul redemption.

2018©Isadora DeLaVega

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100
Photo Prompt: Sandra Cook

 

 

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Friday Fictioneers – Lurking in the Shadows

It had been weeks since I visited Henrietta. To soothe my guilt, I picked up her favorite sparkling wine. At ninety, she wasn’t a fine wine drinker. Five bucks would do. I purchased her favorite dark chocolates too.

I could see bright lights on in the kitchen. She usually kept them on low.

She’d say, “I have a budget, you know.”

Finally, Henrietta opened the door. She seemed dazed.

“Hi Henrietta,” I said.

“Who are you?”

“It’s Ella.”

She grabbed the Gazela and slammed the door.

Curiously, I peered through the window.

Behind the huge spiderweb, lurked a man’s shadow.

2018©Isadora DeLaVega

 

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100 words
Photo Prompt:©Victor & Sarah Potter

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Hidden Deep Inside

The closet door flung open.

“What are you doing in there?”, he growled.

Before I could answer, I was being pulled up by my hair and pushed towards the kitchen.

“Get in there and help your mother.”

I guess he doesn’t want to know.

“See what happens when you hide from work,” she said.

Hide from work? How about I was hiding from the jump rope he just beat me with while you were talking to Mrs. Rosen about styling her wig.

There’s a place I go to tell my troubles. Hidden deep inside the closet is my peaceful place.

2017©Isadora DeLaVega

 

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100
Photo Prompt: Rochelle

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*****In 2015, an estimated 1,670 children died from abuse and neglect in the United States. In 2015, Children’s Advocacy Centers around the country served more than 311,0002 child victims of abuse, providing victim advocacy and support to these children and their families. info:wikipedia
For more information click here: http://www.nationalchildrensalliance.org/media-room/media-kit/national-statistics-child-abuse/

 


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Friday Fictioneers – First Car


“Mason?” “Are you ready?”

“Yeah Dad!”

“The dealership said you can pick-up the car. Its’ ready.”

“OK.”

A few hours later Mason drives up in his new 2017 VW.

Shocked, his Dad runs out faster than a cheetah running after prey.

“What the hell is this?”

“You see Dad, the car dealer told me, if I took his deal immediately I could have the VW with the old ford trade-in”.

“You’re not going to drive around college in a 2017 car.”

“But Dad, can’t we talk about this?”

“No, first car is always used.”

“Let’s take it back.”

2017©Isadora DeLaVega

Genre: Flas Fiction

Word Count: 100

Photo Prompt: Kent Bonham

 

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Friday Fictioneers – The Value of Time

Time was forever escaping Nereida. She needed to complete her thesis for graduation. Her research had been done. Now, all she had to do was organize it and her thoughts.

Time was moving quickly forward with each passing hour. She was following close behind. Her hopes and dreams depended on this final work. She’d been through years and years of studies to reach this goal she had set for herself.

She doodled. Tapped her pencil. Chewed on her pen. An empty mind was not what she needed at this time.

Phone rang.

Mom?

After, she was back on track again.

2017©Isadora DeLaVega

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100
Photo Prompt: Claire Sheldon

 

 

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Friday Fictioneers – Sashay to Trouble

The moon filtered through the starless clouded sky.

She could see tiny white lights shining on the patio. By midnight, they’d be drunk.
It was the perfect night to go.

Silk stockings stretched over her shapely legs and thighs. A black leather skirt accented her curvaceous hips. The spiky heels, she’d picked up at a yard sale, completed her outfit. She felt as fiery as a hot chili pepper.

A car pulled up beside her.

“Looking for some fun?”

“No …” “I’m near my destination.”

“Think so?”

“I’ve got other plans for you, cupcake.”

Tearfully, “I’m grounded. Right Mom?”

  2017©Isadora DeLaVega

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100 words
Photo prompt: Dale Rogerson

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December 30, 2012


Icy rain poured on the cops.

The grim chaos didn’t surprise them. It was a safe haven for the regulars. A place they could shoot up.

“Overhere, Carl”.

“What da we have?” asked the coroner.

“DOA, female, white, blond, maybe 20, looks like an overdose.”

“Damn, these young people. They think they’re invincible.”

Gagging, Sarge nodded his head.

“Yeah, looks like heroin. She’s got teeth; that’ll help. Get her down to the morgue, ASAP.”

~~~~~

“Frank, she’s back here.”

“Seeing her, he screamed, Myrna.”

“God no, he wailed. Man, that’s my sister.”

“She’s been missing. She’s no junkie. She was kidnapped.”

2017©Isadora DeLaVega

Word Count: 100 words
Genre: Flash Fiction
Photo Prompt: j.Hardy Carroll

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Friday Fictioneers – The Last Letter

The house was eerily quiet. The chilly air, a reminder of her long-term estrangement from her mother.

Sorting through years of her mementos was going to be laboriously stressful. It would be easier once Monique arrived.

She opened a leather box her mother kept on her desk. Letters from France?

Angelique read the last letter:

‘Dearest,
I miss you, though your touch lingers still.
Without you, time is an empty space.
I long to hold you. My heart aches for your return.
Come back soon, Mon amour.
Je t’aime,
Pierre’

Ergo, the secret of our French names finally revealed.

2017©Isadora DeLaVega

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100
Photo Prompt©Sandra Crook

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Friday Fictioneers – Bubba’s Gone Too Far

friday-fictioneers-21717-broken-face-liz

“Maw,” Becky Sue whined, tears streaming down her face.

“Child, look what you’ve done,” Momma said pointing to the floor.
“Ya’ll dragged muddy dirt in. I’m near ‘bout to lose my mind with all the work that’s gotta be done ‘round here.”

“But, Maw, come see. Bubba’s done a real bad thing,” Becky Sue bawled.
“Please Maw, please come see.”

“Fine! I suppose it’s gotta be important.”

“Look,” Becky Sue pointed.

“Lordy that child’s done gone too far this time. Drinkin’, smokin’ and breakin’ your favorite dolly.”
“Go find me a switch, Becky Sue. Someone ‘round here needs some learnin’.”

2017©Isadora DeLaVega

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100 words
Photo:©Liz Young

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