Singled Out

October 26, 2022Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Contentment, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Micro-fiction, Mismatch, Perspective, Photo prompt, Relationships, Solitude 37 Comments

He didn’t mind.

Not really.

She tossed him out, she did. A punishment. For being “self-absorbed” and “unmotivated.”

Fair blame, it was. If needing quiet time was selfish, and if not finding it important to climb the never-ending escalator of social comparison, spelled lacking motivation.

Emily liked that stuff.

He did not.

A mismatch more than an actual problem.

For him.

He’d have to find better insulated housing before winter. But in the interim, the camper offered everything he needed.

Shelter. Nature. Quiet. Calm.

Perhaps he’d send Emily a thank you card. Next time he was in town.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt © Bill Reynolds

The Waiting Game

October 7, 2022Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Current events, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Things Kids Say, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Babysitting, Child's perspective, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Making the most of it, Micro-fiction, Nephew, Rainy Days, Things Kids Say 33 Comments

“So I sit here…”

“…and wait,” Misha confirmed.

Clara sighed. When she agreed to babysit her nephew, she thought playgrounds and picnics. Not nonstop rain and hours in a gloomy cafe while her car was being repaired.

She looked around for the boy. Yep. There. His red top. He’s crouched behind the same table. Every. Single. Time.

“I give up!” she announced.

“Ta-da!” Misha popped out like a cork from a bottle.

The four-year-old ran to her and wrapped his arms around her torso. “Best play-date ever, Auntie Clawa! I love this Waiting Game!”

Clara smiled. “Wanna hide again?”

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt © David Stewart

Hanging In

October 4, 2022Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Meditations, Muse and Flow, Poetry, Reflections, Writing Tags: Adversity, Creative writing, dVerse, Finding a way, Hanging on, hope, Life paths, Poetry, Quadrille, Unknown 18 Comments

(Photo: Ray Fragapane on Unsplash)

They didn’t know then

Or still

What track life will

Bring.

Yet they hold on,

By bootstraps

Hoping

For just enough breath with which to

Sing,

To the sun

That would rise,

To the hope

That would

Cling.

Till dawn will

Another story

String.

For dVerse Quadrille Poetry challenge

Almost Viable

September 25, 2022Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Poetry, Reflections, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: Creative writing, Finding your way, Growth, healing, hope, Mother Nature, Poetry, Process, Trauma, Viable, Weekend Writing Prompt 17 Comments

(Photo: Gabriel Jimenez on Unsplash)

She was almost there.

The core of her was almost

But perhaps not quite. Viable.

It took so much of her. To form. To build.

To be.

To sift the valued from the wreckage.

The meaning

From the hurt.

That there was little left.

Yet.

For viability.

Nonetheless it was still in there.

Nascent. Waiting.

For the rain.

For the sunlight.

For the nourishment.

For what had already sprouted and was on its way

To the life

She was.

And could

Sustain.

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Viable in 82 words.

Might As Well

August 6, 2022Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Funnies, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Things Kids Say, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Family travel, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, History, Lunch, Micro-fiction, Photo prompt, Practical thinking, Ruins 39 Comments

sandra-crook

“They don’t know how to park around here.”

Gail rolled her eyes. Just like Stella to find something to criticize, instead of taking in the big picture. And this was big! “How old are those?” she pointed at the castle’s remains on the hill. The walls stood sentry still. Empty windows portals to the past.

Mom consulted the guidebook. “11th Century. Even older foundations.”

Gail opened the window. The warm air smelled of old stone and fresh bread.

“Close that thing,” Stella groaned. “It’s probably full of plague.”

“Too late, then. Might as well stop for lunch before we’re dead.”

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt: Sandra Crook

Road Ready Monologue

July 30, 2022July 30, 2022Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Funnies, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: Family, Family trip, Flash Fiction, Get together, Getting ready, Just for fun, Micro-fiction, Monologue, Relationships, Weekend Writing Prompt 13 Comments

(Photo: SOCMIA Fotografía on Unsplash)

Get the kids. Get the bags. Pack the boot. Start the car.

And save that look for your Mother,

For having her jamborees so far.

Did you pee? Did you wash?

Are you sure the doors are locked?

Where’s your brother? Why right now?

Where does he think we’ll squeeze in his guitar?

No, you won’t.

Not you, too.

Don’t care if the harmonica will be something to do.

Off we go.

Off we are.

Right into bumper-to-bumper trucks.

We’ll never make it.

Best turn back.

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt of: Jamboree in 86 words

No Time For That

July 29, 2022Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Current events, Life and love, Meditations, Muse and Flow, Poetry, Reflections, Writing Tags: Breathing Space, CCC, Finding a way, Pacing, Photo prompt, Poetry, Reflection, self-care, Slowing down, time 16 Comments

ccc194

There was never enough time.

For that.

No time for the things that mattered but were not deemed essential.

No time for the space that was given no paths to traverse.

None for the slow breath that could have allowed a pause

In the constant

Race.

Because there was never time.

For that.

Too much buzzed already

From the break of dawn to the collapse of night.

No time for

Time.

And so, she stopped it.

Stopped time.

She let the hands rest.

Let the heart expand inside the fluttering confines of the

Chest.

She let the breeze

Set

The pace.

The leaves, believe.

The ground stretch long and wide beneath

The feet.

The skies expand across

The dawn.

To let

The space that had

Held on,

To finally

Allow itself to be

Redrawn.

For Crispina’s Crimson’s Creative Challenge

Annum

July 16, 2022Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Poetry, Reflections, Writing Tags: Baby, cycle of life, Family, Micro-fiction, New Beginnings, new year, Newborn, parenting, Poetry, Weekend Writing Prompt 20 Comments

(Photo: Jill Sauve on Unsplash)

They named her Annum.

For being born just as the year turned time onto its head

To start anew.

Just as the numbers tumbled from the duos to the singles

To the very first

Of firsts.

A new beginning.

Just as she was,

Finally,

For them.

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Year in 46 words

Bronzed

July 10, 2022Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: Bullet ants, CCC, Coming of age, Creative writing, Flash Fiction, Getting through, Micro-fiction, Ordeal, Photo prompt, Ritual 23 Comments

“How will I know it’s over?” Marika fretted.

“You will,” Jurena assured. A month older, she was already Bronzed.

“But …”

“But nothing …” Jurena lowered the edge of the tent and stole away. She wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near Marika. Especially not tonight.

Marika listened to the silence. She shivered and tried to not think of Undine, her neighbor, who had never reappeared. Not all did.

The darkness filled her, thick as molasses. Her limbs grew heavy. Her ears began to ring.

Perhaps it was the magic.

Perhaps it was that drink.

Shadows entered, and Marika’s mind filled with molten spears, lava on dried grass. Encroaching. Coming near.

The fire lit her from within. The biting ants. The heat. The pain.

She screamed.

Perhaps she dreamed.

By dawn the elders had removed the gloves. The bullet ants were still.

Marika’s hands were bronzed with stings.

An adult’s.

Her childhood scoured clear.

For Crispina’s Crimson’s Creative Challenge

Note: I don’t know why this photo brought up the image of a years-ago-seen video about Initiation With Ants video, filmed by National Geographic. But for some reason it did, and so I let it take me where it wanted to lead.