The Way Down

April 26, 2025Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Bridge, Depression, Finding a way, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Intergenerational Trauma, Loss, Micro Fiction, Mist 27 Comments

“The way down is longer way than it seems.”

Mama’s words echoed in her head, soft warnings or an encouragement, she never really knew. Never did ask.

Not even after.

Because she understood.

Every time the fog rolled around.

The wonder. The urge. The pull of the opaque. The damp air on her face, her heart, her bangs.

It was, perhaps, something in their blood that called their soul to enter mist.

And yet.

Torso pressed against the bridge, her city’s pulse drowning all sound,

She did not dare repeat what Mama had done.

Abandon.

Her daughter. Her young son.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt © Roger Bultot

Rocket Science

April 16, 2025Na'ama Yehuda Funnies, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Changes, Communication, Finding a way, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Micro Fiction, Science Fiction, Unexpected 52 Comments

“You know how to work it?” Timothy hurriedly stuffed his bag.

“Sure,” Liz shrugged. “Been a while, but not like it is rocket science.”

Timothy paused. An odd joke…but he didn’t have the time to explain anyway. “Just make sure to bring water,” he pressed.

Liz shooed her brother out. He’s been hovering ever since she’s been discharged. As if she’d never lived in a City. Never used a phone. So what if only Before?

A block later, she stood staring. Mystified.

“Water them before you dial,” a passerby offered. “Plants won’t connect your call otherwise. Rocket science, you know.”

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt © Sandra Crook

Urban Sprawl

April 13, 2025Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Growth, hope, Micro Fiction, New Beginnings, Photo prompt, Plant Life 20 Comments

Photo prompt © Nancy Richy

The day the sun returned, the roots found joy.

It’s been an endless dreary time, asleep under the solitary plant light in the basement, curled in, unwilling to release new leaf into confinement.

Then came the roiling movement, the rumbling monster that made Earth wobble under ground. A quaking that woke ancient worries, but also a forgotten hope.

For new space can manifest after the earth moves.

New like this sill. This glorious comfy ledge. This daily warm caress.

The tendrils leapt, crept, grown. They found a mirror – of themselves – reflected in the glass.

A happy urban sprawl.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers