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

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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

Bobeshi / באָבעשי – 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 – 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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*****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 Ordeal

She hated them. All of them! 

They hid behind their masks, worn as a disguise.

She knew what they had in mind. They couldn’t fool her.

With each spasm, an electrical jolt ran through her body.

How much more could she endure?

Aching, throbbing, electrifying pains on every inch of her skin.

She screamed. Her screams meant nothing. They only helped encourage their wretched abuse. 

The glint from their eyes, above their masks, along with encouraging words meant nothing to her during these agonizing bloody moments.

When she thought she could endure no more, “A son,” they said.

2019©Isadora DeLaVega

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Genre: Flash Fiction

Word Count: 100 Words

Photo Prompt©DaleRogerson

 

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