Inside the Mind of Isadora


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Friday Fictioneers – Make Magic Happen

The funeral was exactly the way my grandmother wanted.

She pre-paid and planned it all before she died.

Always the forward-thinking woman, no one would be able to leave any details out.

The rose garden was to be her final resting place.

She’d say, “Where else would I want to be? These roses have helped me create beautiful paintings that will live on in the homes of many long after I’m gone.”

Her garden was magical. She could grow colorful varieties.

I’m sure she’s looking down at us and saying, “Pick up a paintbrush and make magic happen.”

2022©Isadora DeLaVega

 

Genre: Flash Fiction

Word Count: 100

photo prompt©Dale Rogerson

 

To join Rochelle and her Friday Fictioneers Photo challenge

click here


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Friday Fictioneers – Memories

Standing in the middle of the family room, I close my eyes.

Breathing deeply, I can almost smell the warmth of bread baking while pies cool on the window sill.

I can imagine being awakened by the aromatic brew of fresh coffee.

I can’t help but wonder about the many evenings after dinner when my grandmother would gather the children and impart her wisdom with stories of her native homeland and traditions.

It’s damp inside now.

Rain begins to fall, the sound against the tin roof echos a melody.

With all of my senses aroused, I embrace the warm sentiments.

2022©Isadora DeLaVega

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Genre: Flash Fiction

Word Count: 100

Photo Prompt:©LisaFox

To join Rochelle and her Friday Fictioneers challenge

click here

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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.