Peacefulness surrounds me as I hear a songbird’s trill …. I drift away so peacefully.
No peace is greater than the one within yourself … be peaceful.
There are times to be quiet, and time … to be peaceful
2024©Isadora DeLaVega
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Crimson Creative Challenge – #283
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Genre: Poem
Photo Prompt: Crispina Kemp
Word Count: 36 words
Shaking his head, Sam couldn’t believe what he’d bought at auction.
Frost was on the ground; more to come tomorrow. No outdoor work ’til Spring.
How’s he going to flip the Strokov House with its blackened reputation? What was he thinking?
Mrs. Strokov had rented the house with her small salary at the fabric shop. Mr. Strokov would soon follow from Russia.
That morning, she argued fiercely with her daughter.
“You will testify against that teacher who shamed and violated you.”
“No, Mama’, Marta wailed. “I beg you”.
“We have pride”.
That night, from the rafters, she hung her anguish.
2024©Isadora DeLaVega
*****below
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Crimson Creative Challenge – #280
for rules and to join in click here
Genre: Flash Fiction
Photo Prompt: Crispina Kemp
Word Count: 100 words
*****I wrote this story in April, 2015 for Mental Health Day in October. It was well-received. I often write about mental illness and the misunderstanding and consequences of the disease. This activism began after my grandson’s suicide.
Depression is a real illness that impacts the brain. Anyone suffering from depression will tell you, it’s not imaginary or “all in your head.” Depression is more than just feeling “down.” It is a serious illness caused by changes in brain chemistry. Research tells us that other factors contribute to the onset of depression, including genetics, changes in hormone levels, certain medical conditions, stress, grief or difficult life circumstances. Any of these factors alone or in combination can precipitate changes in brain chemistry that lead to depression’s many symptoms. Click here to learn more …
George stares out the window. He doesn’t read anymore, not even the paper; no television either. Just watches the joggers running; the seasons changing.
Been like that since they found Rhonda brutally murdered in the alley behind the ‘Honk-If-Your from Texas’ bar.
He’d sit at the bar talking to Rhonda, great gal with a chest to match.
George eats, sleeps, and stares out the lace-curtained window in the hope he sees her.
His meals are tasteless.
His bills paid.
He sits waiting for the day he’ll see Rhonda again, not much hope alone in a padded cell.
2020©Isadora DeLaVega
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Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100 words
Photo Prompt©Rochelle Wisoff- Fields
To join Rochelle and her Friday Fictioneers challenge
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![zen-zen[1]](https://insidethemindofisadora.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/04/zen-zen1.jpg)
When we reflect on our lives we can’t help but include our thoughts on the one person who’s had the most influence on us:
‘Our Mother.’
She forms the person we’ll be from the beginning of conception. We are who we are because of her.
Despite the way we may feel about her, she is the major player in the formation of our lives.
There are lessons a mother teaches us.
But, it’s always up to us to put them into practice.
It’s always up to us to be in charge of our decisions.
Sometimes, we ruminate and get stuck on what we weren’t given or how we were treated by her.
This shouldn’t matter.
For in the end, if we fail or if we succeed, we should never forget that the final choices are always up to us.
The poem below reflects a Mother’s words eloquently … enjoy Reflection by Secret Garden as you read.
Happy Mother’s Day to all … Isadora 😎
2018©Isadora DeLaVega
Secret Garden – Reflection
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Reflections of a Mother …
I gave you life, but cannot live it for you.
I can teach you things, but I cannot make you learn.
I can give you directions, but I cannot be there to lead you.
I can allow you freedom, but I cannot account for it.
I can take you to church, but I cannot make you believe.
I can teach you right from wrong, but I cannot always decide for you.
I can buy you beautiful clothes, but I cannot make you beautiful inside.
I can offer you advice, but I cannot accept it for you.
I can give you love, but I cannot force it upon you.
I can teach you to share, but I cannot make you unselfish.
I can teach you respect, but I cannot force you to show honor.
I can advise you about friends, but cannot choose them for you.
I can advise you about sex, but I cannot keep you pure.
I can tell you the facts of life, but I can’t build your reputation.
I can tell you about drink, but I can’t say “no” for you.
I can warn you about drugs, but I can’t prevent you from using them.
I can tell you about lofty goals, but I can’t achieve them for you.
I can teach you about kindness, but I can’t force you to be gracious.
I can warn you about sins, but I cannot make you moral.
I can pray for you, but I cannot make you walk with God.
I can tell you how to live, but I cannot give you eternal life.
I can love you with unconditional love all of my life
….. and I will.
~~~ Author Unknown ~~~ ![spa-660x440[1]](https://insidethemindofisadora.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/04/spa-660x4401.jpg?w=300)
Darkness covers me, like a blanket
Shadows, surround my thoughts
My arms wrap tightly round me
Deserted, no ones home
You keep me isolated
My only friend, just you
Smiles ne’er intrude our space
With you, I’m safe and whole
The thorns of my emotions
Keep rising from deep inside
Always in your shadows
Always in your arms
I cannot see the rose
Only thorns of pain
Madness all around me
Keeps me huddled tight
Tomorrow, won’t be different
It will always be the same
Fear keeps me shaking
My spirits tattered, worn
Darkness gives me comfort
Forever, all alone
2016©Isadora DeLaVega
Genre: Poetry
Word Count: 100
To join Rochelle and her Friday Fictioneers challenge
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***** photo prompt© Ted Strutz
“Look, I’ve a magical wand,” Willie said.
“No, you don’t. It’s a piece of rope”.
He always found odd objects to store in those cubicles dad made for him.
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Mom rocked in her chair and stared; disconnected. It all started when she was told Willie was retarded.
She screamed, “No. You’re wrong.”
They weren’t.
He was.
She was angry. She took him out of school.
Blame.
He listened to music all day. Rocked his head, side to side, on his bed listening to his portable radio.
She told him he was special.
At 14, he raped her; unaware, she was his mother.
2016©Isadora DeLaVega
Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 102 words
Rochelle hosts the Friday Fictioneers challenge
click here or the froggy button above
*****Photo Promp© Claire Fuller
The letters were stacked high on the kitchen table. Bills. They were four months behind on their mortgage. The last letter warned of foreclosure.
Sighing wearily, she walked to the basement where her husband often hid-out, drinking booze and smoking marijuana. He’d told her it made him relax.
She could smell the pungent odor as she descended the stairs. Her decision to leave him hardened.
He was lying on the cement floor.
Shocked at the needle hanging from his vein; a note on his lap.
‘The insurance money should be enough for you and the kids.’
“Coward”, she screamed.
2016©Isadora DeLaVega
Word Count: 100
Genre: Flash Fiction
To join Rochelle and her Friday Fictioneers
in this challenge: click here
*****Photo Prompt©Shaktiki Sharma
Inside the Mind of Isadora 