Inside the Mind of Isadora


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Friday Fictioneers – Lurking in the Shadows

It had been weeks since I visited Henrietta. To soothe my guilt, I picked up her favorite sparkling wine. At ninety, she wasn’t a fine wine drinker. Five bucks would do. I purchased her favorite dark chocolates too.

I could see bright lights on in the kitchen. She usually kept them on low.

She’d say, “I have a budget, you know.”

Finally, Henrietta opened the door. She seemed dazed.

“Hi Henrietta,” I said.

“Who are you?”

“It’s Ella.”

She grabbed the Gazela and slammed the door.

Curiously, I peered through the window.

Behind the huge spiderweb, lurked a man’s shadow.

2018©Isadora DeLaVega

 

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100 words
Photo Prompt:©Victor & Sarah Potter

To join Rochelle and her Friday Fictioneers
click here or the blue froggy above

 


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Friday Fictioneers – The Window

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Harry stares out the window. He sits and stares since his Ruby’s brutal murder.

He’d taken her to the museum; then, a dimly lit dinner. She was beautiful.
Harry noticed the waiter leer at her. She provoked men with her beauty.
Her eyes the color of emeralds.

Now, he sit and stares.

He doesn’t care if he leaves the room.

He doesn’t pay bills; watch television or knows who feeds him.

His life is whatever passes outside the window.

All he sees are changing seasons, joggers, passing cars and Ruby’s ghost.

But, there’s no window.

Padded cells have no windows.

2017©Isadora De La Vega

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100 words

Photo Prompt:Dale Rogerson

 

To join Rochelle and her Friday Fictioneers 100 Word Challenge
click here or the froggy button above


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Friday Fictioneers – On A Dark Night

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He sat in the lamp-lit kitchen waiting.

He’d made a cup of tea for her; a morning ritual after her long night at work.

Worry increased as daylight appeared.

~~~~~~~

“It’s hauntingly dark,” she heard a voice from behind her say.

She found herself being shoved against her car.

“How come you’re out so late, honey? What do you do?”

Her hand slashed the silver blade across his throat.

Gurgles of blood oozed while he shrieked.

Inside the car, she flung the scalpel onto the floor.

As she drove away, she watched his writhing body.

“I’m a surgeon,” she said.

2016©Isadora De La Vega

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100

To join Rochelle and her Friday Fictioneers challenge
click here or the froggy button above