The Longest Walk

July 11, 2021Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Things Kids Say, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: Adversity, Appearances, CCC, Denial, Flash Fiction, Going home, Micro-fiction, Photo prompt, Poetry, Secrets, Trauma and Development 13 Comments

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The dappled path grew arms of shade to shackle her so that her legs refused to move.

Earth’s gravity cranked itself up and higher.

It needn’t be so hard, and yet each cell in her begged an excuse.

She couldn’t.

She had to.

She shouldn’t.

She must.

She wouldn’t.

She better.

Or else.

The tree-lined corridor – so outwardly calm, so beautifully straightforward – was but a hall of mirrors.

An amplifier of her agony.

For who would see it and believe her, when none had yet, and perhaps no one ever would?

The careful greenery imposed a form of blindness on others.

A willingness to only selectively see.

Appearances, she already knew, could become everything.

It made the manicured life into a wall beyond which no one saw. Or wouldn’t.

Leaving her to take.

Again.

As in every day.

The longest walk.

Home.

And its unspoken of.

Relentless,

Tortures.

For Crispina‘s Crimson’s Creative Challenge

Dedicated to all who live behind the veils of appearances and are kept hidden in plain sight under a mirage of perceived privilege. Abuse knows no socioeconomic boundaries. Torment knows no race, no age, no god, no faith, no intellect, no education, no level of income. May you be heard. May you find a way to be safe.

Indispensable

July 10, 2021Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: Adversity, Creative writing, Endless, Exploitation, Flash Fiction, Human Rights, Micro-fiction, Requisite, Servitude, To do lists, Weekend Writing Prompt 10 Comments

(Photo: Catt Liu on Unsplash)

She checked the items off the list.

One by one by one by one.

She’d learned to not look too far down. Better to not confront endlessness. To not have to face it that today, too, there will not be a moment when the job is done. When she is free.

Only another task.

Another chore.

Mistress claimed she was “indispensable.”

Praise or curse for why she could not get a few days off to see her ailing mother. To rest. To marry.

“We’re your family,” Mistress had said. “We need you. It is a requisite you stay.”

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Challenge: Requisite in 98 words

Stumped

July 7, 2021Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Things Kids Say, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Firewood, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Making do, Micro-fiction, Photo prompt, Practical thinking, Siblings, Stump 44 Comments

“We shouldn’t do this.”

Laura pulled the ax out of her backpack.

“Stop! It’ll hurt the tree!”

Laura directed a querying finger at the wormy stump before planting her feet and lifting the tool.

Monique stepped closer.

“Don’t be daft,” Laura sighed. But she did lower her arms and gave her little sister a long look.

Monique’s eyes glittered. The gal was going to cry. Over a tree stump.

Then again, she’d bawled over a crushed ant and pouted for a week after Laura ate the goose’s egg.

“The bark will compost.” Laura tried. “And … we need fire wood.”

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo: © Sandra Crook

Blue Sentry

July 3, 2021Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Funnies, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: CCC, Flash Fiction, flowers, Impatience, Just for fun, Micro-fiction, Personification, Photo prompt, Sentry, Waiting, Window 11 Comments

“Can you see them?” Lizzie swayed with anticipation. The waiting has been endless. Endless. Endless.

There was no response.

“Blue!?” she prompted.

“Hold your horses,” Lily soothed, always one to keep the peace. “He takes time to formulate and produce.”

Lizzie knew that, and that it wasn’t proper to press others to do what they physically could not. She tipped her head in guilty acknowledgement.

Still, she wished someone else was standing sentry. Not that Blue had any say. They were each placed where they were placed, and had to make the most of it. Slow as time, Blue would have to do.

And yet, it was so hard to wait.

Especially when she was finally dressed in all her finery and wanted to show it off before any got wilted.

“Car,” Blue said.

Finally! Lizzie wriggled.

“Such Impatiens,” Petunia rustled. “No finesse. All is hurry hurry hurry with them.”

For Crispina‘s Crimson’s Creative Challenge

The Underside of Recollection

July 3, 2021Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Current events, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Poetry, Reflections, Writing Tags: Allegory, Current events, History, Honor, hope, Memory, Poetry, Promise, Tether, Trust, Weekend Writing Prompt 12 Comments

(Photo: Mick Haupt on Unsplash)

It was merely by a feather,

But nonetheless a

Tether

To a life before,

When friends were at the

Door,

And when she did not have to worry

About honor, trust, or

Glory.

She held on to the underside

Of recollection.

To the roots of love that

Promised a

Direction.

For there had been simplicity to life,

An implicit understanding

That words as given were meant

To keep,

And that the sun will rise in

The morn after a

Sleep.

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Tether in 80 words

Hopeless Case

July 1, 2021July 2, 2021Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Funnies, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Things Kids Say, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Elders, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Make the most of it, Micro-fiction, Practical solutions, Sale, teaching, Vehicle 31 Comments

“Just how long has this been parked?”

The youth’s shrug managed both disinterest and disdain.

Edith pressed her lips. Inhaled. Her students had called it her “Schoolmarm Face.” They didn’t know it was just as effective at getting her own body to comply.

She pointed at the wheels.

“Grassy stuff,” the youth noted. “It grew.”

Edith knew a hopeless case when she saw it.

“Well then,” she thrust her purse at him.

For the first time, he looked marginally awake. “Um…, Ma’am?”

“Hold it.” She rolled her sleeves. “And help these old knees down. Someone’s got to check the undercarriage.”

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers