Inside the Mind of Isadora


Undercover Flames


It was one of those unspeakable moments; the one you never want to happen. When eyes meet and sparks ignite.

Veronica was married; so was he. Yet, each time they were in a room together, flames stirred. She did her best to stay clear of wherever he was. But, it was impossible.

Their kids were in 2nd grade class together; the same activities. The possibility they’d often see each other was overwhelming.

He was approaching. Dark chocolate eyes glared at her.

She realized what she was about to feel.

Intense Passion.

Could she keep her composure?

She knew.

She must.

2016©Isadora De La Vega




Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100
Photo Prompt:©Jade M. Wong

Flash Fiction - wpid-photo-20150907210633006

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers



Sunday Song – Caught Out In The Rain

art-rain-wet-woman-web-jpgShe wanted him,
More than he ever knew.
Within a second,
he could make her feel
like a thousand years
of being with him,
So far, it was not enough.
She was willing to take it anyway.
Because, every Second and moment
is a piece of his life for her.
2016©Isadora DeLaVega

Beth Hart – Caught Out In The Rain(with lyrics)

***** goggle image



Flash Friday Prompt pix 8:22:2016 - photo-20160821095532483

The phone rang.

“Hello,” she whispered softly.

“ Nereida, meet me at our usual spot on the beach.”


Memories rapidly flooded her mind. She remembered the first time they’d met. He was walking with his metal detector along the shore. She was photographing the hazy afternoon sky. He had glanced her way.

“Do you always photograph people passing by?”, he said.

“No, only the good looking ones,” she replied.

Thus, the beginning of what would turn out to be a whirlwind romance.

He’d found an antique timepiece that day. It would be her wedding gift.


“I’ll bring the bordeaux,” he quickly added.

“I can’t wait”.

She hung up the phone and smiled.

“I wonder who that was”.

2016©Isadora De La Vega



Word Count: 116
Genre: Flash Fiction



Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers
to join in click here 


***** Photo Prompt: ©The Storyteller Abode


Reflection – Time to Say Good-bye

Blue Rose - signed  (568x640) copy

I spent time building something that couldn’t be built. You showed me that I’d counted on the illusion of my heart.

Perhaps my love, it’s time to say goodbye.

Yes, you don’t want to hear these words.

Our lives together can’t be built on crumbly silt of sand for it would fall upon itself.

We tried and failed, persisting in the dream, because I believed it would succeed. It’s hard to distinguish whether or not the world I live in is a reality or a delusion.

Yet, I didn’t know that shifting sands would lie beneath my feet. I toiled and hungered with determination and fearless resolve. Faithful in my yearnings that you and I could be. I felt a loving future that, I thought, our lives could share. Our imminent future built upon a platform we would surely coalesce.

But now, it’s time to say goodbye instead. I’ll spend my time constructing a newness to survive without your presence in my mind or throbbing in my heart.

You were the man that made me proud.

Your soul had made me strong.

You were the path that kept me straight.

Now, I just don’t belong.

Forever and a day, I will be in love with you.

But keeping the desires of sunshine fresh has been difficult to do.

Sadly, your fingers drift from my hand as we say goodbye.

Your touch is fading from my soul you are no longer mine.

2016©Isadora DeLaVega


Have a ‘Reflection’ you’d like to share?

Tom @ Beyond the Sphere is hosting a
June Theme: ‘Reflection’
to join in click here


Friday Fictioneers – Love is Like a River

Friday Fictioneers AA Feb.5, 2016 - leary2

The cloudy night casts a shadow over the river.
Sitting on the bank, I’m regretting my failures while mourning my loss.
We’d felt solace here.
You were the chuckle in my laughter. The path I walked that kept me straight.
We spent time listening to the reverberations of the rivers course.
Your eyes twinkled as you listened to me speak tender words of love.
The placid water exudes a strange calm.
There’s a stillness in the air that surrounds me.
Looking at the reflection of my face in the serenity of the water;
My thoughts linger gently on yesterday.
Gone …
2016©Isadora DeLaVega

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100

To join Rochelle and her Friday Fictioneers 

in this challenge: click here or Blue Frog Badge




Take my Hand and Walk with Me

Nurture natures-hidden-beauty

In May, my hubby and I celebrated our 50th Anniversary. Our actual anniversary date is August 21st. We celebrated early because of the ports we were interested in seeing. The Panama Canal was one of the many ports. I’ve been trying to get posts written on each one of the ports but it’s happening very slowly.
As it turned out, when I arrived home my back pain, that I had had before I left for our trip, became much more unbearable. I was bedridden. Despite my being a high risk patient, reluctantly, I decided to have the back surgery.
I’ve been progressing slowly since the surgery. I’m far from healed. But, with patience, I can see the light at at end of the road.
While on our cruise, we renewed our vows.
These were the words I spoke.
Enjoy …

Hands 565 holding a daisy.web

Take my hand and walk with me
in quiet places;
where butterfly wings create a melodic song.
Sing and play in secret meadows;
where grasses sway
with soft summer breezes
from dusk to dawn.
Share with me a simple life
of placid days and starry nights;
where we can lie on yielding grasses,
while waiting for the morning light.
Take my hand and dance with me,
until stars twinkle brightly in your eyes.
For simple pleasures love can hold;
even when winter’s edge grows bold.
2015©isadora delavega

Giovanni Marradi Romantico


Friday Fictioneers – Deception

rachel-bjerke.web Rousing from a pain induced sleep, Elsa tries to remember where she is.

She remembers Gerard telling her about the moss covered building. How goats cheese was made there.

Her head throbs; her body aches. She is naked on a dirt floor chained to a pole. She can’t see inches in front of her eyes. A hint of light squeezes through the edge of the window.

Images race through her head like a slideshow.

Her mother warned her. An internet romance is dangerous.

“Why Gerard?”, she screams.


He throws clothes at her. Let’s go. You’re a white slave now.


Genre – Fiction

Word Count – 100

PHOTO PROMPT – ©rachelbjerke

The challenge is to write a story in 100 words – beginning, middle and end.

To join in the challenge – click here


Friday Fictioneers – Roast Pork and Wild Mushrooms


Will taking Victoria to the farm this weekend be a mistake?

Mama insisted he go to college in the big city after Paw died.

He knew he’d be back once he got his agricultural degree.

But, would this city gal he adored want that too?

He felt pride as he showed Victoria around the farm.

Suddenly, stopping and pointing, she asked, “What’s that?”

Those are wild mushrooms growing in dung.

She crinkled her nose with disapproval.

They talked with his brothers and family while Mama brought in dinner.

“Roast pork with wild mushrooms,” she announced.

Victoria crinkled her nose, again.

2015©written by isadoradelavega





Genre – Fiction

Word Count – 100

PHOTO PROMPT – © Erin Leary

The challenge is to write a story in 100 words – beginning, middle and end.

To join in the challenge – click here



Whispering Words

Flower A - tranquility.webWhispering Words                                          2015©art by isadora

Ernesto Cortazar – Orchidea

Word Snap Weekly: Flowers of the World

Word Snap Weekly is a unique challenge, designed to inspire creativity from
photographers, visual artists and creative writers.

To join in click here


Haiga is a lovely creative art form which differs from Haiku due to it’s artistic style.

The Haiga combines artwork, a haiku poem and calligraphy.

Originating in Japan in the seventeenth-century, traditional Haiga was painted and the calligraphy hand written.


Remember and Return to Me

Woman - depature - bluebell My eyes lookout at the nights sky. It’s colors changing from charcoal darkness to a petal pink dawn. The stillness of the whispers of the night murmur softly. Sails awash, as the waves are gently slicing through the serene water as the surf rushes in. Calm cerulean breakers with whitecaps will soon carry you to me.

All the things that passed unnoticed between us are unimportant to the pieces of our lives. They’re insignificant gathered dust at my feet. The yearning of more of what I never knew existed is wrenching at my heart with a longing desire. A simple kiss of affection never stirred my soul into response.

Now, your nonexistence is pulling me apart.

Thinking love was just a phrase never worthy of my mention. But the lingering remembrances of tender moments fill my mind today. The warm morning mist upon my face brings the tender feeling of your gentle stroke. I need you to return to me and hold me always near.

Who do you love? The sea or me.

Let me reveal that I love you.

I hope you can hear the whispers of my heart. Whatever winds will take us, as we go along our way. I know that we will find new enchantments each and every day.

In quiet moments, my thoughts begin to recall the memories of those days when you were home; here by my side. I linger tenderly on yesterday, a time that I had tucked away in places so unknown. I contemplate on what could have been-then scold myself for remembering.

A softly ticking mantle clock you loved to wind sits waiting; its’ hands still of time. A reminder of fervent memories of days before you went to sea and left behind a love you thought would never be. Pieces of daybreak interrupt the serenity of the surrounding air. Morning din slices through the spreading patterns of those waves. It’s just enough to swing and sway your ship homeward bound closer to the cove. I’ll have no fears of your return for now. We will be one.

Your ship is drifting closer. I watch the sails wafting in the calm breeze. Seeing your arrival seems like a delusion of a dream. I fear my awakening. The stillness begins to surround me with a serene tranquility.

The lighthouse is your guiding light for your voyage home. I’ve waited for you to come back with my eyes dark and sullen. My heartaches are leaden with sorrow and grief.

I couldn’t envision that you would come home to me once more. My heart is crying you will remember the caresses we had before. If you return, beloved, my spirit will never falter again. The distance and the vastness of our time apart was more than I could grasp. A life that would be shattered I cannot conceive of anymore. All the pain and heartache has torn my emotions in half. I hope you are remembering the love we had in the past. My arms are waiting eagerly for your return home.

2015©written by Isadora