A Long Way Down

March 25, 2021March 25, 2021Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: Adversity, CCC, Creative writing, Dystopia, Finding a way, Flash Fiction, Making do, Micro-fiction, Photo prompt, Siblings, Survival, Writing Challenge 21 Comments

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“This place will never do,” Aaron shook his head.

“It’ll have to,” Ella tucked the edges of frustration back into the crevices that practice had made almost foolproof. Almost. One could not get complacent.

She’d seen what happened when one did, and the cost was never worth the temptation of release.

“We’ll make it work,” she added before Aaron could add argument to what they both knew will have to be managed anyway.

The steep plot of thicket-covered land was all they had. A measly inheritance, perhaps, but better than the debtor’s jail … and the ways one had to pay debts with one’s body. Piecemeal. By the hour. By the man. They could neither of them survive it again.

“It is a long way down,” Aaron acquiesced. “The stairs are rotted.”

“A longer way up for those who do not know the path,” Ella smiled. “We’ll do fine.”

For Crispina‘s Crimson’s Creative Challenge

Steps Away

March 10, 2021March 10, 2021Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Meditations, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Beach, caregiving, Disabilities, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Helping hand, Make the most of it, Micro-fiction, Poetry, Understanding 55 Comments

“We’ll carry you,” they said.

“It’s only steps away.”

The breeze blew memories of salt and sand and spray.

She raised her finger.

In her mind.

For the one that lay atop the sheets no longer knew

To move.

And yet

It was okay.

Because they understood quite perfectly

What she wanted

To say.

The gladness in her eyes.

The gift

Of yet another

Day.

“We’ll carry you,” they said.

Strong arms linked

As her heart thumped

In time to

The gentle sway.

It was only a few steps

To the water.

To the breathing

Gray surf

Of the bay.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt © CEAyr

In A Heartbeat

March 8, 2021Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Meditations, Muse and Flow, Photography, Poetry, Reflections, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: Butterfly kisses, Creative writing, dVerse, Fog, hope, Micro-fiction, Photography, Poetry, Poetry prompt, Possibility, Quadrille 29 Comments

(Photo: Karen Forte)

The fog cocooned her.

A swift blanket

Of numbing

Penetrative chill

The sun could not

Expel.

And yet

A butterfly’s wing

Flicked against

Her cheek.

A kiss

Of warmer

Days.

A promise for

What what could,

In a heartbeat,

Thaw frost

Into bedazzled

Hope.

For the dVerse quadrille challenge: swift

For Carol. On your birthday in heaven. Butterfly kisses galore.

In Her Element

March 6, 2021Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Photography, Poetry, Reflections, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: Blending in, Camouflage, Chameleon, Coping skills, Creative writing, Flash Fiction, Micro Fiction, Observations, Poetry, Weekend Writing Prompt 19 Comments

(Photo: Amitai Asif)

She watched

The proceedings

Without anyone

Taking notice.

It was almost

Magic,

Perched as she was

In plain sight

Yet somehow

Not.

It suited her

To be a

Chameleon.

There but not

Quite there.

For she was most

In her element

When she was fully

Blended in.

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Element in 47 words

Green Throne

February 25, 2021Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Memoriam, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: Adversity, Artistry, CCC, Creative writing, Flash Fiction, Gratitude, Memoriam, Micro-fiction, Overcoming, Photo prompt, Stonework 24 Comments

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Not many could make stone into illusion.

She could.

Her hands carved softness into unyielding rock. Made age appear into the moss as if the stone itself shed velvet, hewed damp to seep from underneath the surface as if through the core of sighing cushions, long forgotten, left to rot.

Only it was not.

Instead of a discarded chair, it was a throne. A headstone.

A memorial to the man who’d scooped her out of orphaned desperation, who brought her here, who led her to her heart’s forgotten home.

She held the memories of his calloused hands atop her shoulders. Steadying her mallet, guiding her chisel, letting her learn. Letting her fail. Letting her know she was worthy. As was he. Just because she was.

His masonry was practical. Fences. Houses. Walls.

Hers sang to the forest floor as she carved. His armchair, reincarnated.

For eternity. Her parent of soul.

For Crispina‘s Crimson’s Creative Challenge

Long To Fade

February 15, 2021Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: children, Creative writing, dVerse, Flash Fiction, Harsh, Hazelnuts, Micro-fiction, parenting, Prosery, Punishment, Quote, Yeats 24 Comments

(Image: Alicja_ from Pixabay)

“Where have you been?!” her mother’s elbows speared the air like wings on a falcon, keen to dive.

The lass lowered her head and hiked her apron in an offering. The contents would not account for hours wiled away from chores, but they might reduce the heat of what promised to be imminent suffering.

“I went out to the hazel wood, because a fire was in my head,” the child demurred, unpinning one side of the apron to reveal a mound of early hazelnuts, “in eagerness to bring your favorite, Mother. Seeing how the morrow is your saint’s day.”

The woman’s scowl budged none. “A flatterer as well as an idle hand. I know a hasty crop when I see it. Now, as you are so eager, fetch a switch of hazel and I’ll give your hide a fire that will not soon fade.”

For the dVerse prosery challenge

Poetry prompt from W. B. Yeats

A Leap Of Faith

February 12, 2021Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Choice, Courage, Creative writing, Determination, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Going for it, individuality, Leaf of faith, Life paths, Micro-fiction 33 Comments

She always knew the road could end.

Rickety throughout, it got almost impassable in places. It was a folly, she’d been told. A fool’s errand. Doomed to fail.

The way had never been fully completed, quite possibly never fully traversed. So many had abandoned it that there would be no rest stops, no soft places to lay one’s head.

Indeed, each step confirmed the lack of maintenance.

Still, it was her path to take, her journey to attempt.

And when she faced the maw, the utter void of all support, she knew.

She could turn back.

Or she could leap.

For Rochelle‘s Friday Fictioneers

Only Cooler

February 6, 2021Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Things Kids Say, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: Determination, Finding a way, Flash Fiction, Gargantuan, Hard work, Making do, Micro-fiction, No limits, Snowman, Weekend Writing Prompt, winter 26 Comments

(Photo: Chagit Moriah Gibor)

It was going to be a gargantuan effort, but that had never stopped her before.

No matter what others always said she could do.

The skis were first. Adjusted to work over the wheels like skids on seaplanes. Only cooler.

Literally.

She slid through the ice and snow to find a clean patch. Shoveled up the snow onto her lap to press into a ball. Rolled and patted. Devised a ramp and pulley to hoist the second ball. Plopped on the third. Poked in twigs.

There.

Lopsided, but so was she.

Her snowman. Wheelchair be damned.

For Sammi‘s Weekend Writing Prompt: Gargantuan in 96 words

His Hummingbird

February 5, 2021Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Things Kids Say, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: CCC, Family, Flash Fiction, grandparents, Grief, Hummingbird, Loss, Memoriam, Micro-fiction, Sign, Things Kids See, Visitor 14 Comments

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The day had been dreary so far. The cold. The damp. The boring wait for the car’s repair. The need to keep her body still and her mouth from chattering.

Gran did not let her wander. Or climb. Or touch things.

“You’ll get filthy.” Gran had stated. Like an ultimate sin.

At first Beth did try to argue. Daddy always said that filth is easy to wash off and that a bit of dirt was no excuse for sitting out good fun.

Gran did not think highly of Daddy.

“What judgment that man could have had in him,” Gran grumbled, “he’d given it up when he chose to leave my uterus early … and it only went downhill from there.”

Or up, Beth thought. He had promised to watch over her. Before the angels called.

“My Hummingbird,” he’d called her.

Her eyes rested on the sign. She smiled.

Hi Daddy.

For Crispina‘s Crimson’s Creative Challenge