Inside the Mind of Isadora


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Friday Fictioneers – First Car


“Mason?” “Are you ready?”

“Yeah Dad!”

“The dealership said you can pick-up the car. Its’ ready.”

“OK.”

A few hours later Mason drives up in his new 2017 VW.

Shocked, his Dad runs out faster than a cheetah running after prey.

“What the hell is this?”

“You see Dad, the car dealer told me, if I took his deal immediately I could have the VW with the old ford trade-in”.

“You’re not going to drive around college in a 2017 car.”

“But Dad, can’t we talk about this?”

“No, first car is always used.”

“Let’s take it back.”

2017©Isadora DeLaVega

Genre: Flas Fiction

Word Count: 100

Photo Prompt: Kent Bonham

 

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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

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~~~~~

*****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


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Footprints in the Sand

The sun is sparkling over the crystal turquoise water. It’s warm as I lie on the sand staring at the sky. A warm sensation fills me with extraordinary peace. I feel free. I’m in the center of this beautiful landscape.

Colorful sailboats skim across the water. Beautifully dressed flamingos settle by the water’s edge. They resemble little gentlemen wearing pink shirts with yellow spotted ties. I watch them for some time. Their pink bodies blending with the turquoise water.

Upon a mossy tree filled mound sits a young man painting. His brush capturing footprints left behind on the grey speckled sand.

As sunset begins, he picks up another canvas ready to paint the night sky. The sky changes from a sunny yellow and blue to pink, red and orange. Stars dot the darkness. I’m feeling exuberant as I watch the changes. Another day’s set. Tomorrow, the exquisite scenery will return.

2017©Isadora DeLaVega

Genre: Short Story
Word Count: 150
Photo Prompt: aFrank

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Friday Fictioneers – The Value of Time

Time was forever escaping Nereida. She needed to complete her thesis for graduation. Her research had been done. Now, all she had to do was organize it and her thoughts.

Time was moving quickly forward with each passing hour. She was following close behind. Her hopes and dreams depended on this final work. She’d been through years and years of studies to reach this goal she had set for herself.

She doodled. Tapped her pencil. Chewed on her pen. An empty mind was not what she needed at this time.

Phone rang.

Mom?

After, she was back on track again.

2017©Isadora DeLaVega

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100
Photo Prompt: Claire Sheldon

 

 

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Friday Fictioneers – Sashay to Trouble

The moon filtered through the starless clouded sky.

She could see tiny white lights shining on the patio. By midnight, they’d be drunk.
It was the perfect night to go.

Silk stockings stretched over her shapely legs and thighs. A black leather skirt accented her curvaceous hips. The spiky heels, she’d picked up at a yard sale, completed her outfit. She felt as fiery as a hot chili pepper.

A car pulled up beside her.

“Looking for some fun?”

“No …” “I’m near my destination.”

“Think so?”

“I’ve got other plans for you, cupcake.”

Tearfully, “I’m grounded. Right Mom?”

  2017©Isadora DeLaVega

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100 words
Photo prompt: Dale Rogerson

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Friday Fictioneers – In the Garden

 

She was waiting for him in the garden. He’d gone to get some wine for their moonlight stargazing tonight. He was always very romantic.

Walking among his many prize-winning roses, she was enveloped by their aroma. There were many varieties. He was proud of his green thumb.

Turning, she saw him running towards her.

“Mona!”

“My precious flower. The love of my life”.

He finally said it.

Oh, Pierre!

“Mona, my flower!”

“Oh, Pierre! I love you too!”

Pierre reached her. He knelt down and moved her foot aside.

“My flower!”

“You were standing on my prized-winning flower.”

2017©Isadora DeLaVega

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100
Photo Prompt:Sarah Potter

 

 

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Friday Fictioneers – The Last Letter

The house was eerily quiet. The chilly air, a reminder of her long-term estrangement from her mother.

Sorting through years of her mementos was going to be laboriously stressful. It would be easier once Monique arrived.

She opened a leather box her mother kept on her desk. Letters from France?

Angelique read the last letter:

‘Dearest,
I miss you, though your touch lingers still.
Without you, time is an empty space.
I long to hold you. My heart aches for your return.
Come back soon, Mon amour.
Je t’aime,
Pierre’

Ergo, the secret of our French names finally revealed.

2017©Isadora DeLaVega

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100
Photo Prompt©Sandra Crook

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Friday Fictioneers – Flamenco Competition


“Por favor, Renaldo, can we stop all of this practicing. My feet are swollen. My toes ache.”

“Esmeralda, we must practice if we’re going to win the competition.”

“But, it’s snowing and I wish to go home while I still can.”

“The Flamenco has to be perfect; no missteps, we must be flawless.”

“Okay, go, he snarled. Work on your costume and return early tomorrow. No excuses.”

Cautiously, Esmeralda, walked to her car.

From behind she heard a scream.

Quickly, she turned and saw Renaldo sitting on the icy concrete.

With a sheepish grin, she shouted, “No practice tomorrow … right?”

2017©Isadora DeLaVega

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100 words
Photo Prompt:©Magaly Guerrero

 

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~~~~~


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Friday Fictioneers – Gratitude

Although there wan’t any dinner because he’d arrived late, he felt no ill will.

Freshly brewed coffee and donuts were set out for the night. This would be enough for him.

~~~~~~~

The street lights were a warm welcome for the oncoming damp chilly night.

The lamppost, near his favorite bench, the ideal place to secure the fine bicycle he’d found at the Salvation Army today. The boots fit him perfectly, too. He was happy the saleswoman had given him this woolen blanket as he left.

Soon sleep. And, another day would have been lived.

God, he thought, life was grand.

2017©Isadora DeLaVega

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100
Photo Prompt:©Jellicos Stationhouse

 

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