Inside the Mind of Isadora


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Friday Fictioneers – Her Games Shows

The sound of the portable television, blaring game show pinging sounds was exasperating.

I’d see her on the patio smoking her cigarettes and bidding on the fictitious items on the screen. 

 I’d seen her on the patio, smoking her cigarettes and bidding on the prized items on the screen. 

I glance over as I prune my gardenia. “Do you like game shows, Dina?”

“I enjoy them so much I subscribed to the game show channel,” she says.

“The shows are all repeats, right?”

“Sure, they are. I always forget the results. Damn dementia.”

~~~~~~~~~

They found Dina murdered in her recliner. 

2020©Isadora DeLaVega

~~~~~~~~~

 

Genre: Flash Fiction

Word Count: 100 words

Photo Prompt©Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

 

To join Rochelle and her Friday Fictioneers challenge

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Friday Fictioneers – Our Promise

 It felt odd standing at the front door.

“Come on, Brie. Open up.”

She turned the doorknob; they entered.

The house felt eerily quiet.

The euphoria from days-gone-by was missing.

Brie couldn’t stop thinking about the last few days.

She was opposed to it.

James insisted, “It’s the right thing to do.”

“She relies on tubes, drips, and machinery?” he shouted.

“But, she’s alive,” I pleaded.

“And, our promise to let her die with dignity.”

“She gave us life, James.”

“Then, we owe her dignity in death.” 

“Doctor, my brother and I …”

~~~~~~~~~

“Look Brie, mom’s favorite Paris poster.”

 

2020©Isadora DeLaVega

~~~~~~~~~

Genre: Flash Fiction

Word Count: 100 words

Photo Prompt©C.E.Ayer

 

To join Rochelle and her Friday Fictioneers challenge

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Friday Fictioneers – Just Another Day at Work

 

2020©Isadora DeLaVega

He came home at 1:30 a.m. He’d done a 4 to midnight tour.

Sandy, always, waited up for him. She could never sleep when he was at work.

Baking and ironing kept her occupied until she heard the key in the door.

His enormously firm hug let her know it had been a tough night. 

She could smell smoke in his hair. 

He rambled on about the fire and casualties. 

Six children, he repeated several times. 

Tears fell down his face.

We could hear them screaming. 

The flames were everywhere. 

We just couldn’t get them out. 

They died.

2020©Isadora DeLaVega

~~~~~~~~~

Genre: Flash Fiction

Word Count: 100 words

Photo Prompt©RogerBultot

 

To join Rochelle and her Friday Fictioneers challenge

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***** Edited story from 2015 that didn’t receive much recognition the first time.


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Nurture Yourself – Life is Just a Moment

I read this, “Life is Just a Moment.” 

It’s insightful. It’s touching. 

The ending has a profound lesson.

           Perhaps, because of all the recent events in the news and my personal life,

 we need to focus on Living Life in every moment. 

  ~~~~~~

A man died…

When he realized it, he saw God coming closer with a suitcase in his hand.

Dialog between God and Man:

God: “Alright son, it’s time to go.”

Man: “So soon? I had a lot of plans…”

God: “I am sorry but, it’s time to go.”

Man: “What do you have in that suitcase?”

God: “Your belongings.”

Man: “My belongings? You mean my things … clothes… money”

God: “Those things were never yours, they belong to the Earth.”

Man: “Is it my memories?”

God: “No, they belong to Time.

Man: “Is it my talent?”

God: “No, they belong to Circumstance.

Man: “Is it my friends and family?”

God: “No son, they belong to the Path you Traveled.”

Man: “Is it my wife and children?”

God: “No, they belong to your Heart.”

Man: “Then, it must be my Body.”

God: “No No… it belongs to Dust.

Man: “Then, surely, it must be my Soul!”

God: “You are sadly mistaken son. Your Soul belongs to me.”

The man with tears in his eyes and full of fear took the suitcase from God’s hand and opened it…

Empty…

Heartbroken and with tears running down his cheeks he asked God… “I never owned anything?”

God: “That’s right. You never owned anything.”

Man: “Then? What was mine?”

God: Your “MOMENTS.

Every moment you lived was “Yours!!!”

Do Good in every moment

Think Good in every moment

Thank God for every moment

Life is just a MOMENT!

2018©Isadora DeLaVega

~~~~~~~~~

Namaste

I honor the place in you

in which the entire universe dwells.

I honor the place in you

which is of Love, and of Truth,

of Light and of Peace.

When you are in that place in you

and I am in that place in me.

We are One

~~~~~~~~~

 Becca at On Dragonfly Wings with Buttercup Tea 

hosts Nurturing Thursday … to join click here

 


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Sunday Song – I Hurt Too

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Poetry is a life-cherishing force.
For poems, are not words after all,
but fires for the cold,
ropes let down to the lost,
something as necessary
as bread in the pockets of the hungry.”
© Mary Oliver – A Poetry Handbook

I Hurt Too by Katie Herzig with lyrics

*****Google image

*****Rectify – Season 1


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Friday Fictioneers – We Did All We Could

When the ambulance arrived they rushed him straight to the operating room.

We paced outside the coffee lounge waiting area. 

It seemed like hours but only minutes had passed.

No one dared speak for fear of causing a deluge of emotions in the nervous mother.

Her woeful cries, when she first heard of her sons accident, rang in Isadora’s ears. She wasn’t sure she could bring comfort to her mother if anything happened to her brother, Vincent.

Hours passed. 

It didn’t seem possible, they hadn’t heard anything.

Finally, Dr. Ramundi, approached. “I’m sorry. We did all we could.” 

Anguished cries. 

2018©Isadora DeLaVega

 

Genre: Flash Story

Word Count: 100

Photo Prompt:Yvette Prior

To join Rochelle and her Friday Fictioneers challenges

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to read more photo prompt stories – click froggy above

~~~~~~~

          *****Although this story is fiction, it’s been influenced by the recent death of my grandson, Vincent.

                                     

                                                Vincent Alfonso Carrozza, 23, passed away on Monday, Sep 17, 2018

                                                           at Greenville Memorial Hospital in South Carolina.

                                                           My granddaughter, Isadora, was named after me.

                                                 My grandson Vincent’s middle name was my husbands first name, Alfonso.

 


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Sunday Song – In the Arms of an Angel – Hallelujah

Anthony Bourdain dead @ 61 June 25, 1956 – June 8, 2018

Chef – writer – TV host

Photo’s and article by Variety

click here to read

If you or someone you know is considering suicide,

please contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255)

Kate Spade dead @ 55 December 24, 1962 – June 5, 2018

Fashion Designer

Photo’s and article by Variety

click here to read

If you or someone you know is considering suicide,

please contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255).


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Friday Fictioneers – The Pink Dress

Mother asked me to get one of Oma’s dresses for the viewing.

Walking through the house, I could feel Oma in every room. 

She was with me; guiding me. 

Small things meant a lot to her; like working in the garden, a walk in the park or sitting on her front porch listening to the birds sing.

Oma kept an impeccable home. Her treasured crystal, Rogaska, bowl on her dining room table always had fresh flowers or plants.

Opa loved her pink gown from their 75 anniversary. 

He’d said, “My heart fluttered when we danced.” 

This will be the dress. 

2018©Isadora DeLaVega

 

Genre: Flash Fiction

Word Count: 100 words

Photo Prompt: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

To join Rochelle and her Friday Fictioneers challenge

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Heavy Hearts in Florida

Rose - Blue

They were people like you and me.

Students left the safety of their homes to attend school for a better future. The teachers were there to help guide them to that purpose.

It never crossed their minds that on that particular day their lives would change forever.

When we leave our homes, how many of us think that we’ll never return?

I think, none of us.

Our lives have been changed by a horrific tragedy that happened in Parkland, Florida.

Seventeen people lost their lives and another fifteen were injured, some struggling in hospitals to survive.

It must have been overwhelming for families to wait; transfixed on hearing news of whether or not their family member, child or spouse was okay.

It’s a scenario that’s happening too often.

The losses of innocent people has burdened us with heavy hearts.

I hear these news reports and it paralyzes me. I can’t believe the hate.

The angry feelings that can well-up inside someone to bring them to that level of the destruction of lives.

These are criminals with lack of empathy for others.  Monsters who have little regard for human life.

When will this end?

How will it be stopped?

To all who are suffering from this tragedy of lives lost in Parkland, Florida:

May your troubled hearts find peace and comfort in the knowledge that you are not alone.

May God’s presence ease your trembling spirit and give you rest.

He is there to cast sunlight into all of your darkened shadows,

to send encouragement through the love of friends and family,

and to replace your weariness with new hope.

Blessings to All …
Isadora
2018©Isadora De La Vega

 

John Lennon – Imagine

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Friday Fictioneers – A Small Stone

He stood at the door of 28909 Rue de Jardin. Memories flooded his mind. He’d never imagined seeing this house again.

Why had his father left it to him?

They hadn’t spoken in forty years. He was ten. His mother had divorced him immediately after she discovered his affair. Her broken heart finally erased by her suicide.

Sitting with Clarice, the now 90 year old mistress, in the large windowed parlor he remembered the park view from his bedroom. The wounds still felt razor deep.

He placed a stone on the gravestone; softly murmuring, “Ikh bin dir mühl. Hasholem Aaron Steinman”.

2017©Isadora DeLaVega

 

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 101 words
Photo Prompt: Janet Webb

To join Rochelle and her Friday Fictioneers challenge
to join in click here

~~~~~

*****I forgive you in Yiddish – ikh bin dir mühl

*****Rest in Peace in Yiddish – hasholem

***** Within the Jewish faith, it is customary to leave a small stone on a grave. Placing the stone on a grave serves as a sign to others that someone has visited the grave. It also enables visitors to partake in the mitzvah tradition commemorating the burial of the deceased. Stones are a fitting symbol of the lasting presence of the departed life. info©shiva.com