A Matter Of Scope

October 12, 2020October 12, 2020Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Quotes, Reflections, Writing Tags: Arts and Crafts, Botany, Creative writing, dVerse, Flash Fiction, Historical fiction, Making it work, Micro-fiction, Prosery, Quote, Relationships 35 Comments

(Photo: Anna Sullivan on Unsplash)

“It was never a matter of reach, but of scope,” Morris mouthed the words around his pipe.

Ethel harrumphed under her breath, but gently. She had to take care to not move the petals or she would have to restart the lot, and there was nothing she disliked more than having to redo tediousness. Be it in business or in marriage.

“Cannot see what you find in him,” her mother had criticized her daughter’s choice of man.

“Perhaps we look at him through the wrong end of the long telescope of Time,” her father had chuckled in knifing disapproval.

“Too long a telescope it must be,” her mother had deadpanned.

Her parents were both gone now. To the shorter end of cholera. Left Ethel and Morris the house. And a failing botany business which they were slowly but assuredly pressing into sought after art.

Prosery quote: ‘We look at him through the wrong end of the long telescope of Time’ (Hummingbird, D.H. Lawrence)

For the dVerse prosery challenge

In Opposition

October 10, 2020Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Current events, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Poetry, Reflections, Writing Tags: Asinine, Current events, Elections, Future, Having a voice, hope, parenting, Poetry, Politics, Protest, Vote, Weekend Writing Prompt 21 Comments

(Photo: Liam Edwards on Unsplash)

They stood in opposition to

Those infatuated

By the asinine,

Those energized by contempt,

Reveling in hate.

They stood in opposition to

The denial of reality

And the dismissal of

Fact

And science

And pain

And death.

They cast ballots in opposition to

Ineptitude upheld as

Strength,

And insults as

Saving face.

They linked

Metaphorical arms

In solidarity with

Truth

And hope

In possibility of

Reclaiming faith.

To show their children

That voice

Helps.

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Asinine in 74 words

Going Farther

October 9, 2020Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Things Kids Say, Writing Tags: CCC, Coming of age, Creative writing, delight, Fairy Tale, Fantasy, Flash Fiction, Folklore, Forest, Just for fun, Micro-fiction, Photo prompt 16 Comments

into-the-woods-ccc100

On the tenth visit on the tenth week following her tenth birth day, she took ten additional steps beyond the Big Tree Boundary.

She went Farther.

At first nothing happened. The woods looked as they had before. The trees no different in the Farther Realm than they were in the land she’d known and was allowed in until then: Green branches, a ground springy with the fallen leaves, wind whispering in the tree tops, birds’ song.

Then the light shifted and the air shimmered with a sense of something else. A being with.

She shuddered. Not in fear but with expectation. Not everyone went Farther, and none she knew spoke of what they’d found.

She stilled. The world around her blinked. The forest floor awoke.

Her heart raced and she inhaled. Her soul spoke. She knew it! She knew it! She’d be among the few allowed to see Fair Folk.

For Crispina’s Crimson’s Creative Challenge

Cleanup Crew

October 7, 2020Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Funnies, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Clean up, Evolution, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Just because, Micro-fiction, Precautions, Storm, Survival 48 Comments

“Well, that’s not too bad,” Irvin scratched his chin. The scruffy look added credibility, but the cost in itchiness was high.

Darwin nodded. Looked bad to him, but he wasn’t gonna say nothing. He always ended up sounding stupid and he’d heard enough evolution jokes. Thank you Mom and Dad.

“You get the rake and the bin. Start scraping,” Irvin ordered. “I’ll go check the inside.”

Awning roof sure slants funny, Darwin thought, but didn’t say. Just made sure he was on the far side of the van when the corrugated metal screeched.

Survival of the fittest and all that.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

(Photo prompt © Sandra Crook)

Tucked In

October 6, 2020Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Meditations, Muse and Flow, Poetry, Reflections, Writing Tags: Blanket, Calm, Creative writing, Dream, Lullaby, Night, Poetry, Quadrille, Rhyme, Sleep, Writing prompt 27 Comments

Photo: Peter Oslanec on Unsplash

The voice of song

Lulled her to sleep

As wind whispered

Leaves into heaps.

Her mind soared on

A night’s journey’s sweep

As breathing slowed

And memories steeped.

Her body warm neath

Blankets soft and deep,

She sighed and found

A dream to keep.

For the dVerse poetry quadrille challenge: blanket

Together

October 3, 2020October 3, 2020Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Meditations, Poetry, Reflections, Writing Tags: Creative writing, Folklore, Heather, hope, Poetry, Preparation, Remedy, Together, Tradition, Weekend Writing Prompt 15 Comments

Photo: Nicola Nuttall on Unsplash

They walked through fields

Of heather

Seeking remedy

For those

Soon to be together,

Gathering the makings

Of the broom

They’d use

To sweep away their

Woes.

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Heather in 27 words

Pathfinder

October 1, 2020Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: Adversity, Apprehension, Bus ride, CCC, Creative writing, Flash Fiction, Going home, Hypervigilance, Micro-fiction, Photo prompt, Wary 26 Comments

bus-interior-wet-day CrispinaKemp

It was going to be better once she got there. Not like last time.

She held her purse on her lap with both hands, knees together, spine away from the cushion and her body swaying lightly with the movement of the vehicle, as she watched the world roll ahead of the front window, indistinct in the liquid grayish light.

It’s been raining for hours. A persistent misty drizzle that had dampened so many of her earlier years. She shuddered even though the bus was overheated. Perhaps because she sat in her coat.

The driver leaned on the horn and she released one hand to steady herself against a possible braking. Her seat in the center of the last row had no armrest, but it was the only one with a clear path out.

She always needed to have an unobstructed way out.

And yet, there she was, going back.

For Crispina’s Crimson’s Creative Challenge