Inside the Mind of Isadora


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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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Lovingly Holding You

heart-in-hands

His touch sent chills through her body.

She had waited months to have these feelings.

In no way could she have imagined the tenderness of his touch.


Others had told her to prepare for it.

She thought she had.

No, it wasn’t what she’d prepared for.

She knew it was an intimate love that only she could feel.

Especially, when she held him.

Forever, she would remember the warm fondness they were sharing.

She’d carry it in her heart, selfishly, forever.

But, for now, she’d enjoy these moments of lovingly holding her son.

Alone.

2017©Isadora De La Vega

~~~~~

The Daily Post – Lovingly


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Friday Fictioneers – Pop Pop’s Antique Car

This is an encore of a previous entry for Friday Fictioneers. Our Purple Goddess has granted permisson to repeat our story since the photo prompt is having another go-round. Enjoy ….Friday Fictioneers - 2:26:2016 - al_forbes

The parade was on Sunday.

Nana was excited. She’d be driving Pop Pop’s antique car.

He’d purchased it at an auction. It took him 8 years to restore her.
Sadly, he never got to show her off.

“Will you be able to see, Nana?”, I asked.

“I’ll be dazzling wearing my wide brimmed yellow hat”, she beamed.

“But, the ophthalmologist said to limit your driving.”

“Lily, I wouldn’t miss showcasing your Pop Pop’s car for anything.”

She slept soundly, with a dazzling smile, that night.

I drove the car wearing her wide brimmed yellow hat.

She would have been proud.
2017©Isadora DeLaVega

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100 words

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Friday Fictioneers – The Window

friday-fictioneers-jan-212017-dale-rogerson2

Harry stares out the window. He sits and stares since his Ruby’s brutal murder.

He’d taken her to the museum; then, a dimly lit dinner. She was beautiful.
Harry noticed the waiter leer at her. She provoked men with her beauty.
Her eyes the color of emeralds.

Now, he sit and stares.

He doesn’t care if he leaves the room.

He doesn’t pay bills; watch television or knows who feeds him.

His life is whatever passes outside the window.

All he sees are changing seasons, joggers, passing cars and Ruby’s ghost.

But, there’s no window.

Padded cells have no windows.

2017©Isadora De La Vega

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100 words

Photo Prompt:Dale Rogerson

 

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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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Friday Fictioneers – Awaiting the Letter

friday-fictioneers-111816-bjc3b6rn-14His hands are shaking.

He can barely get the key into the mailbox slit.

Will the letter be in there?

He holds the letter firmly; runs his fingers across the calligraphy engraved return address.

Feeling unsteady, he sits on the dank urine-stench steps.

This letter could be my way out of this dump.

No one has faith in my musical talent. I’ll prove them wrong.

He’s tired of playing jazz at the smokey ‘Cafe Wha?’.

“Dear Randolph,” 

“We regret that you do not qualify, at this time, to be in our Juilliard Music Program.”

Uncontrollably sobbing.

Perhaps, everyones right.

2016©Isadora De La Vega

 

Genre: Flash Fiction

Word Count: 100

Photo Prompt:©Bjorn Rudberg

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*****I used to go to the Cafe Wha? in my twenties with my, then, boyfriend, now, hubby.

      Cafe Wha? is a club at the corner of MacDougal Street and Minetta Lane in the Greenwich Village neighborhood of Manhattan, New York City that has presented numerous musicians and comedians. Bob Dylan, Jimi Hendrix, Bruce Springsteen, The Velvet Underground, Cat Mother & the All Night Newsboys, Kool and the Gang, Peter, Paul & Mary, Woody Allen, Lenny Bruce, Joan Rivers, Bill Cosby, Richard Pryor and many others all began their careers at the Wha? ©wikipedia