Inside the Mind of Isadora


Friday Fictioneers – Prinsoner Numbers

Last week, I wrote about Bobeshi Rivqah. If you’d like to catch-up click here. This story does stand alone. Ironically, the locked cages in the photograph had the same feel as the ones shown at the Florida Holocaust Museum in Tampa, Florida.

Mama, can I go outside?”

“Go! But, don’t go far.”

From my stoop, I watched Mrs.O’Doherty and Bobeshi Rivqah talking.

“Rivqah, you’re telling me they used the same numbers?”

“Yes, can you believe that?” 

Mrs.O’Doherty shook her head from side to side.

“They reused prisoner numbers from the dead; especially, is if they were moved to another camp,” Rivqah said. “Dehumanizing!” 

Slowly, I made my way towards them.

They were taking about something I’d wondered about.

“Why do you have numbers on your arm, Bobeshi?”

She hugged me and said, “One day, you’ll know kleyn meydl, one day.”

2019©Isadora DeLaVega


Genre: Historical

Word Count: 100

Photo Prompt:©JHardy

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***** Stoop: a porch with steps in front of a house or other building.

***** Prisoner numbers in the system of German Nazi concentration camps. The prisoner numbers have become a synonym of dehumanization that struck the deportees of the concentration camp. These numbers were to serve efficient “management” of camps, performed by the SS teams. ©

***** kleyn meydl / קליין מיידל – little girl


We’re Going Home

Flash Friday 3:14:2016 - Soldier - photo-20160314112836231

The guys named him Black Hawk. He was shaky today. I could feel his insecurity.

He needed some love; that, and the reassurance that this isn’t good-bye. I couldn’t blame him.

There was cheering and shouting everywhere. We were going home.

One night when he crept into the barracks, he was muddy. His body was nothing but bones and mange.

After a lot of pleading, Sarg let us keep him.

“He won’t survive, he said. He’s a dog. A dogs gonna do what a dog does. Run out. Some random shots will get him.”

I wasn’t going to let that happen. I talked to Black Hawk. He listened. He helped keep the moral alive for us guys.

“Hey, little buddy, don’t look so sad. It’s a great day for all of us. We’re going home, I told him.”

I think he understood.

2016©Isadora DeLaVega

Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 143


Flash Fiction - wpid-photo-20150907210633006

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

to join in the challenge click here or on the blog froggy

***** photo prompt:


When will We – Give Peace a Chance?

Flower Purple BF 566 Orchid S.web

Our hearts are filled with sorrow for the losses of the people of Paris.


Peace—true Peace – Poem by Walterrean Salley

Folks greeting those they meet.
Children playing in the street.
People working hand in hand
For the better of the land.
Atonement with the great I Am.
Lion resting with a lamb.
World leaders shaking hands—
In truth—not because they can.
Sacrificing at all cost
To minimize potential lost.
Such, the face of true peace,
Would bring the world much relief.

May strife and fighting ever cease
And “true” peace be increased.
©Walterrean Salley

 John Lennon – Give Peace A Chance


Soul Mates©Photography by Isadora DeLaVega


Friday Fictioneers – My Daddy helped Your Daddy

Friday Fictioneers - jhc5
“My daddy helped your daddy.”

“I know. My daddy helped your daddy, too,” echoed Ivy.

“My mom said that when you’re a soldier you can die.”

“I know. A soldier can die like my daddy did,” Ivy whimpered.

“Don’t cry, Ivy, our daddys are together. They can still help each other in heaven.”

“I know. My daddy was a good soldier,” Ivy said with tears falling.

“Maybe, we can be soldiers when we grow up. We can be soldiers together. A soldier keeps people safe.”

“I know,” Ivy mumbled. “But, I want my daddy back.” “He was my best friend.”

2015©written by Isadora De La Vega
Genre: Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100

Soldier with infant - 1

Wednesday, November 11, 2015 was Veterans Day.

It’s a day to say ‘Thank You’ to all of the men and women who have served in wars to help maintain our freedom.

Children suffer the ravages of war in ways which effect them their entire lives. They are often forgotten. The loss they feel should not be minimized. They are the innocent victims.

To those who have come home to us, we praise you for your bravery.

To those who have not survived the ravages of war, we honor you for your bravery and for giving us the freedom we are able to enjoy today and everyday.

May your souls rest in peace.


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Friday Fictioneers – Papa’s Unfulfilled Wish

dijon friday fictioneers.web

Brigitte exhaled as she came upon the Cathédrale Saint-Bénigne.

Pensively she said, “Papa would have been tearful. He carried painful memories of the war in his heart, Gabrielle.”

“Henri, why did you die before you could find peace?”

Mama had never spoken about those times; nor did Papa.

After the funeral, I promised Mama I’d bring her here. Now, she’d find peace for both.

Viewing the inside of this beautiful cathedral, it was difficult to imagine the terror they felt during the revolution. They survived because of this church.

Mama sat with closed eyes and prayed.

She never awoke.

2015©isadora delavega

Genre: Historical Fiction *****
Word Count: 100 Words

***** Research led me to the information that Cathédrale Saint-Bénigne de Dijon was a cathedral built in 13th and 14th century France.          After some background history, I used my imagination to create this fictitious story.

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