Auctioned Off

September 9, 2024Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Current events, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: Auction, Current events, Distortion, Division, humanity, Righteousness, Truth, War, Weekend Writing Prompt 13 Comments

Photo: Artem Beliaikin on Unsplash

It has become

A flag

To wave.

An identity to wrap oneself with

As permission to denounce

The Other.

Casting off compassion for some

As if it would occupy the space needed for

Zero sum care.

History versions, auctioned

To the highest bidder.

Adulterated variations for a fee

In ratings, rage, and righteousness.

The molested Truth

Auctioned off.

Her hands bound

Her essence starved

Of air

And light

Or hope.

Her very humanity

Splayed

Vulnerable,

On the block.

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Auction in 78 words

Points of Light

June 13, 2024Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Adversity, Difficult times, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, hope, Labor, Micro Fiction, Rescue, Waiting 21 Comments

“They will not come.”

Mara stilled her neck from shaking. Gabrielle did not need confirmation as much as she needed hope. “Oh, but they will,” she soothed.

Gabrielle shifted and sighed in half voice, half moan.

“Are they coming more frequently now?” Mara inquired then laughed at the teen’s raised eyebrow. “The contractions, I mean. Not the others.”

“They can all come once and done,” Gabrielle sputtered between clenched teeth.

Mara chuckled but her eyes searched the darkness. Gabrielle’s stamina would not last long.

A light wavered in the distance. Became three points. Mara exhaled. Finally, the sign of hope.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt © Lisa Fox

Topsy

May 29, 2024Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Adversity, Amusement Park, Everything's relative, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Making do, Micro-fiction, Not Recommended 35 Comments

She never understood the urge to willingly turn one’s world upside down and put one’s fate in the hands of minimally-maintained machines in the hands of minimally-trained college students who were likely more intent on ogling potential mates than on guaranteeing an in-one-piece return to gravity for riders.

Life was plenty adventurous enough without deliberate topsy-turvy.

And yet, there they were. Lining up to shell small fortunes for misery.

She stood at her window, nursing the weak tea that would have to do till the end of the month, and watched the roller-coasters hurl a screaming world around.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt © Mr. Bink

Outcircled

May 22, 2024Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Bullying, Culinary school, Defiance, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Getting through, Micro Fiction, Outside the box 35 Comments

“This will not do!”

Rosie dipped her chin in acquiescence, but her hands twitched atop the rolling pin. Master Chef, as they were told to call him, was no ‘Master’ of hers, not to mention a mediocre chef and worse instructor.

You need to pass this course, she breathed compliance into her arms. “P&D” (“Pastries & Desserts” in the syllabus, “Posh & Dumb” among students) was mandatory. As was the instructor, whose Pops padded the Culinary College’s coffers.

“You will keep to the circles,” he decreed before moving to the next student.

Not to any circles you’re in, Rosie vowed.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Patience

May 18, 2024Na'ama Yehuda Life and love, Muse and Flow, Things Kids Say, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Family, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Historical fiction, light, Micro Fiction, Patience, saying goodbye, Things Kids Say, Waiting 21 Comments

“How long will you be away?”

Pa patted Patience’s head. A rare affection from someone whose love was measured in ensuring there was grain and cloth and warmth enough for the lot of them.

“As long as the Lord deems right,” Pa responded.

“Hopefully the Lord deems it right quickly,” Patience blurted, bracing for reprimand. Children ought not question God’s plan.

“Amen if so,” Pa murmured, surprising her. He shouldered his rucksack, touched her head again. “You are the eldest. Help Ma and tend your siblings. And,” he added, “keep the tower lit, may its light lead me back home.”

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt: Dale Rogerson

Until The Rain

May 8, 2024Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Canopy, Coming to terms, Finding peace, Friday Fictioneers, Grief, Loss, Making do, Photo prompt, Siblings 27 Comments

“It will only last till fall.”

“In all probability,” Tad smiled, “so would I.”

Seth craned his neck toward the canopy, so tears stream into his hair and not onto his cheeks, where Tad may see them.

Gone was the sturdy tarp of their childhood gazebo. Stripped away by time, and the remains plucked off by winter’s hurricane.

“The trees protect it still,” Tad offered gently. “The roof we have no longer hides the sky.”

Until the rain, Seth thought, but nodded. The light was soft. Perhaps the inevitable will be, too.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt © Lisa Fox

His Royalness

May 1, 2024Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Funnies, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, confusion, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Micro Fiction, New job, Odd, Supervisor 28 Comments

“You lift up to make him king. You lower before dethroning.”

Molly stared at Davis’s face, uncertain what to do with hers. Some hazing was expected on orientation day. But this?

Davis glared back, and she nodded as if in comprehension, desperate for a glint of mirth to reassure her he was joking.

There was none.

“And are there guidelines for when either happens?” she attempted.

Davis’s eyes narrowed and Molly swallowed. There goes her job.

The man bowed to the doll. “Please forgive her ignorance, Your Royalness.”

He turned to Molly. “Beware, for your predecessor lost her head.”

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Fevered

March 30, 2024Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Current events, Muse and Flow, Poetry, Reflections, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: Abuse of power, Current affairs, Current events, Distortion, Gaslighting, Manipulate, Poetry, Weekend Writing Prompt 18 Comments

daniela-paola-alchapar-6YpI5Hf5siI-unsplash

(Photo: Daniela Paola Alchapar on Unsplash)

They took the temperature

Of the crowd,

And realized they could

Twist skeins of truth into

Great blobs of knotted lies,

Then sell

As remedy

To now a fevered mob,

A distorted gospel

Bloated with melodramatic

Sighs.

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt of: Temperature in 37 words

Suspension

February 28, 2024Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Funnies, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Beyond repair, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Micro Fiction, Out of commission, Photo prompt, Suspended, Too late, Vehicle 40 Comments

“It cannot be saved.” The mechanic stuck stained hands in blackened pockets of oily coveralls.

Shelly tilted his head in bewilderment.

“Perhaps a new suspension…” he chanced. “A bit of wax or paint job.” Shelly could not recall the last time that the car was operational, nor how to do a thing on its behalf, but surely all that the conveyance needed was an odd term or two and the tinkering of a sufficiently grimy man.

“The only suspension that can help this pile of rust,” the mechanic muttered, “will be one that suspends it en route to wrecking.”

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Aloft

February 21, 2024February 21, 2024Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Things Kids Say, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Historical fiction, Micro Fiction, Migrant Children, Migration, New Beginnings, Wagon 47 Comments

It was the opposite of everything. No more the steady breath of fire in the hearth. No more the solid oaken walls that Grandpa hewed and Grandma charred. No more the steady view that only seasons marked.

She was aloft atop the bedding, swaying on the ruts, the creaks of wooden wheels squeaking out of step with the team’s heavy clip-clop.

Another place awaits, Ma says, though where or what Faith couldn’t tell. How when all who’d gone before hadn’t returned?

Pa’s steady shoulders hitched with the reins. “Prepare,” he said. “We’ll circle wagons and there’d be chores ‘fore long to tend.”

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers