Inside the Mind of Isadora


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Friday Fictioneers – The Wrong Side

 

Anthony, Dad wants you to pile the wood he chopped last Saturday.

I watched him as he went to the barn for the wheel-barrow. The doctors said to keep him active, and his hyper-active behavior will calm down. Many kids with ADHD become productive adults. 

It had snowed the night before. Pushing the wheel-barrow was tough. 

He was done and stood proud as he viewed his work.

Momma, come on out to see the woodpile.

Bewildered, she hid her emotions.

Anthony, my sweet boy, you’ve added the woodpile to the front of the house instead of the back.

2021©Isadora De La Vega

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Genre: Flash Fiction

Word Count: 100

Photo Prompt:DaleRogerson

To join Rochelle and her Friday Fictioneers 

in this challenge: click here

 


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Friday Fictioneers – Adult Shop

Walking around 42nd street in Manhattan with Amanda can be trying. 

New York City is the hustle and bustle of people.

Hawkers get in your space, enticing you to buy items that may or may not be legal. 

Why did Tom tell me to go out for a walk while he was at his meeting?

“Mama, look at that fun shop. There’s big glasses in the window.”

“No, Amanda, it isn’t a children’s shop.”

“What kind of a shop is it, Mama?”

“It’s an adult shop; children aren’t allowed. Let’s go to Rockefeller Center; there’s an American Girl Doll store.” 

2021©Isadora De La Vega

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Genre:Flash Fiction

Word Count: 100

Photo Prompt:RogerBultot

To join Rochelle and her Friday Fictioneers 

in this challenge: click here

 

*****American Girl Doll“The American Girl experience is more than just a collection of toys. It is a collection of magical moments filled with goodness—moments that will nourish a little girl’s spirit, send her imagination soaring, and make her dreams come true.”—Pleasant T. Rowland
When Pleasant founded American Girl in 1986, she believed that great stories with aspirational characters could inspire girls to make their own positive mark on the world—and she was right. Since then, we’ve been a trusted partner in empowering girls with confidence and character. ©PleasantT.Rowland


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Friday Fictioneers – Colegio de Nuestra Senora de la Valvanera

 

August 21, 1963, was the first day of my senior year.

I was in awe of the academy the week before when I had met with Mother Superior.

My mom and I stood before the twelve-foot gates with ornate handles and locks at the entrance. It was medieval.

Upon entering, we were directed to a small chapel for prayer before speaking to Mother Superior. Although more like a chapel, it was mesmerizing in its elaborate baroque style.

As we left, we could hear the Benedictine monks chanting in the courtyard.

A year-long immersion in the chant was a benediction.

2021©Isadora De La Vega

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Genre: Non-Fiction

Word Count: 101

Photo Prompt:DaleRogerson

To join Rochelle and her Friday Fictioneers 

in this challenge: click here

 


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Friday Fictioneers – Playing Hooky

Come on, Sandy.

No, I don’t want to get in trouble.

It’s beautiful down by the lake at this time.

No! I mean it.

There’s canoeing and paddling.

I don’t know how to do any of that. 

We don’t either. We can learn together.

Ed, Lila, and Ralph begged me to go.

Persuaded, I caved.

I didn’t paddle or canoe but watching the eagles flying above us made it all worthwhile.

In the end, I was happy I’d gone along.

In terror, I stood before my mom’s angry face.

 I knew my awful fate by the look on her face.

2021©Isadora DeLaVega

Genre: Flash Fiction

Word Count: 100

Photo Prompt:KristaStrutz

To join Rochelle and her Friday Fictioneers 

in this challenge: click here


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Friday Fictioneers – Love is Like a River

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 river’s 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 …
2021©Isadora DeLaVega

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100

Photo Prompt: PennyGadd

To join Rochelle and her Friday Fictioneers 

in this challenge: click here

She’ precious ❤️❤️❤️

This was originally posted on FF in 2016. I’ve repeated it due

to my granddaughter visiting with my new great-granddaughter.

My eyes must be deceiving me. 

It’s my childhood bike.

I reflect on the hours of recreation we had together.

You gave me happy days of endless activity. 

I never thought I’d grow to ignore you, but other things took your place.

Here you are in Momma’s crumbling house; your body rusted, consumed with decay.

 I didn’t expect you to be here among the memories of my childhood.

You played a sweet symphony of shades of color for me to enjoy.

Fear of endings grasps my emotions. 

I banish them to the disposable world, and their unique beauty ends.

2021©Isadora De La Vega

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Genre: Flash Fiction

Word Count: 100 words

Photo Prompt©LisaFox

To join Rochelle and her Friday Fictioneers Writing 

challenge click here 

The morning mist of light rain chills the damp air. The sprinkles fall like fairy dust.

Somber moans of grief echoing in the silence mimic the sound of metal thumps.

Our hearts shattered into aching pieces with memories of her kindly, gentle spirit.  

The dark holes of fragmented pieces felt in each of us.

Grandmother would have called this a celebration of her life.

‘No tears, no sorrow for my death, just joyful memories of my days,’ she’d say.

Grandmother’s friends were remembering her vibrant life.

A dark hole of broken hearts forever silences her wise words in the end.

2021©Isadora De La Vega

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Genre: Flash Fiction

Word Count: 100 words

Photo:©Ted Strutz

To join Rochelle and her Friday Fictioneers Writing 

challenge click here 

*****The elderly continue to be the biggest victims of this dreaded pandemic that we’re still in the midst of experiencing. My daughter is a counselor at a hospice hospital in Albany, NY. The deaths are staggering. Please get vaccinated and wear masks.


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Friday Fictioneers – Alone

Through hazy eyes, I glanced around the room. 

A beeping sound echoed in my ears. It had a mesmerizing tone.

The yellow glow of light reflected on the walls as the sun rose.

I felt numb. 

My mind couldn’t recall what had happened to me.

There was no one in the room. I was alone.

A frightening chill crept through my blood. 

Daunting thoughts raced through my mind.

There were bruises all over my body.

 I ached.

My chest swelled with emotions. 

Tears flowed as panic took hold of me. 

How did I get here?

And, why was I alone?

2021©Isadora DeLaVega

Genre: Flash Fiction

Word Count: 100

Photo Prompt:©Na’ama Yehuda 

To join Rochelle in her photo writing challenges

along with her Friday Fictioneers – click here

 

 

 

 


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Friday Fictioneers – Chaos vs. Culture

Under her breath, Katherine grumbled. Moaning all morning about her disinterest in going to Chinatown fell on deaf ears. She hadn’t come to New York City to see food markets, commercial stands filled with counterfeit designer items, or inhaling scents from so many restaurants. She cringed from nausea. 

Traveling with Charles was always a problem. 

Katherine was looking forward to cultural places like the MOMA museum or a Central Park carriage ride. 

You’ll enjoy the chaos was his reply when she questioned his itinerary. Let’s compromise, stay an hour.

Fine, she said.

A vendor shouts: ‘Ma’am, you want Gucci handbag.’

2021©Isadora DeLaVega

 

Genre: Flash Fiction

Word Count: 100 words

Photo Prompt:©Roger Bultot

To join Rochelle in her photo writing challenges

along with her Friday Fictioneers – click here

MoMa_NY_USA_1

***** MOMA – Museum of Modern Art is located in Midtown Manhattan in New York City on 53rd Street. It is an Art Museum. 

 

 


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Friday Fictioneers – Dying Love Aftermath

In February, we had another photo prompt from Dale Rogerson. Since this week we’re having an encore of another of her wonderful photos, I thought I would continue my first Flash Fiction story called Dying Love. If you missed reading it click on the title; although, the stories are independant of each other. Thanks for popping by … Isadora

She sat on the chaise lounge, watching the droplets of rain slide down the window.

Her eyes were swollen and red from the tears she’d shed for hours. Time didn’t exist.

A blank space permeated where there used to be laughter between him and her. 

Now, he was gone. 

Why?

The police were kind but seemed suspicious. The paramour is always suspect.

Yes, they were opposites in many ways, but he was gentle, kind, and conscientious of her likes.

No, he was a keeper. She’d begun to fall in love. 

Will she ever be happy again or die pining away?

 

2021©Isadora DeLaVega

 

Genre: Flash Fiction

Word Count: 100 words

Photo Prompt:©Dale Rogerson

To join Rochelle in her photo writing challenges

along with her Friday Fictioneers – click here