What Lenny Would Build

October 3, 2025Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Uncategorized, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Building, Family, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Micro Fiction, Observations, Odd, Patience, Sunset 19 Comments

“I don’t know what to make of it,” Arlene shook her head.

“Of the sunset?” Molly’s already reedy voice rose higher.

Arlene took a deep breath. She forgot just how literal her sister-in-law was.

“No, the sunset is beautiful,” she stated. “And the arches.”

Molly turned to face Arlene. The glow from the ball of fire in the distance rendered one of her cheeks fire-orange, the other ashen-gray.

“So what did you mean?”

Arlene pointed to the oddly shaped building to their right. “This. Looks like what Lenny would build.”

“Lenny is three.” Molly noted.

“Exactly,” Arlene said.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo by Dale Rogerson

Exactly

September 3, 2025Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Good stuff!, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Do it yourself, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Gift, Grief, Micro Fiction, Potential, Vintage 24 Comments

“There!” Tim pointed.

“The rough without the diamond,” Robert snorted, hands shoved in the pockets of his too tight jeans.

Melissa giggled.

Tim felt his heart sink. This was exactly what he wanted. How come the others could not see?

“You’d do better in the junkyard,” Robert walked away. “He must’a hated you to leave you that”

Melissa pranced behind him.

“I’m sorry,” Tim whispered to the old car. “Mr. Evans left you here, yes, but he kept your engine in his shed. Wrapped like a present. Safe.”

“I will put you back together,” he promised. “Exactly as he’d asked.”

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo credit: © Ted Strutz

A Rare Show

July 30, 2025Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Things Kids Say, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, connection, Disappointment, Excitement, Expectations, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Micro Fiction, Neurodivergent 26 Comments

“So?”

Ivor fished a tissue out of a pocket, buying time. Though not really a fan, Elena’s excitement had rubbed onto him, and he found himself trying to hide his disappointment. He didn’t think he could face hers.

“Isn’t it amazing?” Elena pulled on his arm, pitch high in delight.

“It sure is something,” he managed, relieved.

“Just like the Iron Throne, but made of crystals,” she rocked on her heels, and wriggled her fingers into his. A rare show of affection reserved for joy edging near to overwhelm.

He smiled and squeezed her hand. “I’m so glad we’ve come.”

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo credit: © Marie Gail Stratford

Aloft

July 9, 2025Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Hard times, hope, Micro-fiction, New Beginnings, saying goodbye 43 Comments

“When, Mammie?” Sally fidgeted on Bella’s lap. Bony butt on bony thighs on a hard bench. It hurt, but Bella ignored the discomfort.

“Any second now,” she responded. The crowd’s hum amplified the thumping in her chest. Heart to ribs. Heart in throat.

A rumbling started. Imperceptible at first, then a rattling that shook the ground, and a moment later, sound.

Two beams shot up. Lit the night sky.

“Goodbye, Eric,” Bella mouthed, tears overflowing. She held Sally so tightly that the child protested. “Find hope, my love. Find life. Then come back for the rest of us.”

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt © Roger Bultot

The Third Drop-Off

July 2, 2025Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Things Kids Say, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Childhood Adversity, Childhood trauma, Finding a home, Flash Fiction, Foster Care, Friday Fictioneers, Micro Fiction, Social worker 57 Comments

“Is that it?”

The girl’s face remained pressed to the window.

“Yes,” the woman nodded. This was the third drop-off today and it better be less dramatic than the previous two. It was late, and she still had reports to write.

She thumbed the folder to remind her of the names, exited the car and walked around to open the child’s door. It could not open from within. For safety. Some kids escape.

“Come,” she said.

The child blinked, swallowed hard. “It looks nice,” she managed.

The woman’s eyes softened. “Yes. It does. I hope this foster placement works out.”

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt © David Stewart

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

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