Simon’s Snack

November 6, 2019November 6, 2019Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Funnies, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Appetite, Childhood memories, Dinner, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Micro-fiction, No thanks, Recipe, Relationships, Snack 42 Comments

Photo prompt: © Ronda Del Boccio

“Peach jelly and olives?! Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

Jack shuddered. This may well be the end result.

Jill’s pasta sauce concoction reminded him of “after-school snack” on days his mother had to work late and the school-bus would drop him off at his uncle’s house. Uncle Simon would have a tall glass of bluish milk waiting, alongside a dish of crackers topped with lemon-lime marmalade and loaded with sardines.

The mere thought of Jill’s recipe gave him the runs.

Good. Saved by the throne.

“Sorry, Hon. I must’ve caught something at work. I better have plain toast.”

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Note: Dedicated to my cousin Noam, who reportedly loved sardines-and-jelly sandwiches. I remember being horrified by the very idea and saddened that he would never enjoy them again. Four years my senior, he died at war, just weeks past his nineteenth birthday. We miss you, Noam (sandwiches and all)!

All Caught Up

November 4, 2019Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Funnies, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: Creative writing, Flash Fiction, Micro-fiction, Oh-oh, Paperwork, Photo prompt, Relationships, Surprise, Unexpected, Writing Challenge 18 Comments

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She leaned back, took a long look around, and sighed in satisfaction.

He’d love it. She was sure he would.

It took three full weeks and dozens of hours, but now every piece of paper he’d ever owned was alphabetized and catalogued. The photos organized by color, location, and main character. The receipts tagged and ranked by preference: favorite things first, the things he’d never order again, last.

He was due home by nightfall. She could only imagine his delight.

The office was transformed. So was the garage. She even organized the nets and oar for an artistic touch. Bronzed all his mementos so they matched.

No more desk and drawers. No more folders. No more boxes with a mishmash of photos and cards. Goodbye to letters stacked together by arbitrary designations of correspondence, when they could be more logically sorted by zip code (or when there was none noted, ordered alphabetically by addressee’s given name and divided by paper-type).

It had been a Herculean task, but she was undaunted. Who but her would take it on to help him out?

She couldn’t wait to show him how she’d got him all caught up.

For Keith’s Kreative Kue #236

Uduru’s Sudan

November 3, 2019November 3, 2019Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: Childhood Adversity, Flash Fiction, Going home, Micro-fiction, Overcoming, Pride, Strength, Sudan, Tenacity, What Pegman Saw, Writing Challenge 15 Comments

Sudan, Khartoum (Photo: Amma Hareib on Pixabay)

Uduro held her head high, the wrapped money tucked securely in a fold of her clothing. Only a small amount was in the beaded purse. No need to give pickpockets reason to try and outsmart her. She knew better than most.

The market’s alleys welcomed her, coolly shaded under the roof. The dimmer light was soothing. She inhaled, sated. Shoes. Spices. Food. Clothing. Utensils. Leather goods. Whatever she needed could be hers. She walked slowly as befitting her status, her back straight with pride.

She was back.

No longer the barefooted street urchin, begging for leftovers, scurrying from grabby hands while carrying favors for a scrap and a slap.

She was now the wife of a man who owned three stalls on the Souk’s main road. And a whole house. She was the mother of a boy who was never hungry. Umm Faheem, they called her now, in Uduro’s Sudan.

For the What Pegman Saw challenge: Sudan

Unspoken

November 2, 2019Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Speech Language Pathology, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: Childhood Adversity, Flash Fiction, Ineffable, Intimidation, Micro-fiction, Secrets, Siblings, Silenced, Taboo, Trauma and Development, Weekend Writing Prompt 16 Comments

Photo: Rosalind Chang on Unsplash

It was a thing they would not utter. Ineffable. In their home, at least.

So much that it baffled them to see how others in their own homes — and often without a moment’s hesitation — did.

To them it felt impossible. Dangerous … though they wouldn’t dream admitting fear or conflict.

Those, too, were taboo. As was to contradict.

Their parents’ word was law. Speak “No”, and you would certainly be whipped.

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: ineffable in 70 words

The Biggest Yield

November 1, 2019Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: Creative writing, Flash Fiction, Generosity, Hard work, Harvest, Micro-fiction, Overcoming, WordOfTheDay, Writing prompt, Yield 11 Comments

Photo: João Silas on Unsplash

They never expected it to turn out as it had.

Sure, they hoped their hard work would bear fruit. Of course they put all they had into it. They needed sustenance, which — without gold or title or power or support or skill — meant they had to find a way to raise it.

Through thick and thin and cold and rain and mud and sun.

Some of it with bare hands. Some literally blindly, given their bad eyes.

They did what they felt they had to do. They just never expected to manage quite so well.

Not when all they’d ever been told was how unworthy and incompetent and incapable they were. A burden on others. Unproductive mouths to feed.

They’d soonest have believed they’d amount to nothing than that they’d amount to so much. Or have such plenty.

Enough to get through the winter and the early spring. Enough for next year’s planting. Enough even to give.

They had the biggest yield anyone had seen in years.

They never expected it to turn out as it had.

To have so much to eat, to be able to be those who feed.

It had to be the fairies, dusting magic onto their field.

For the Word of the Day Challenge: Yield

Itsy Eats it!

October 31, 2019Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: CCC, Fantasy, Flash Fiction, Guarantee, Halloween, Home, Micro-fiction, Photo prompt, Protection, Writing Challenge 12 Comments

She’d had it with replacing the gate five times in a season.

She’d had it with coming back from any length of trip to find her garden in shambles, her gazebo in ruins, and her abode filled with debris. There were always some of her favorite things broken or missing.

Something had to be done.

This might not look like it’d stop determined burglars, but it should at least cause pause to the majority. If any dared try.

It didn’t matter that it was made of bent reeds, or that she’d been advised to seal the opening with bricks. Too much stone felt heavy. And anyway, she found pleasing beauty in the symmetry, in the way light filtered through. It was like a window to the world.

Also, Itsy came with references and guaranteed the work.

“Itsy build,” the industrious worker promised. “And if something break in. Itsy eats it.”

For the Crimson Creative Challenge #51

Doomed

October 31, 2019October 31, 2019Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Funnies, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: Bad idea, Costume, Fall, Flash Fiction, friends, Getting in trouble, Halloween, Hospital, Photo prompt, Silly, WritePhoto, Writing Challenge 19 Comments

Photo: Sue Vincent

“I will stand here, then slowly scoot in and get us tickets. No one will notice.”

“Are you kidding me?!” I tried to keep my voice low. Fortunately, it wasn’t difficult to do, muffled as it was already.

Doug shrugged, scattering orange and yellow.

It was a bad idea. This whole thing. I never should’ve let Doug talk me into it.

“It will be so much fun!” he’d said. And … anything did sound better than being cooped up in a hospital bed, my face swollen and bruised and covered with bandages after reconstructive surgery, while everyone else went partying.

Doug’s initial idea was to bandage the rest of me like a mummy, but I wasn’t going for it. I had enough of bandages. So Doug ‘borrowed’ his brother’s bike leathers and brought along some plastic ‘armor’, a roll of fake cobwebs, and a helmet that he somehow managed to fit over my post-surgically-wrapped visage. It was a bit too snug in places and as soon as he’d pulled it on I knew I’d regret it when we tried to remove the thing from my poor head. My noggin was five tons of throb.

We’d gotten through the nurse’s station undetected, and were now trying to crash the doctors’ party at the end of a hallway off the lobby. There seemed to be tickets involved. Or invitations. Or IDs of some sort. Now what?

Music crashed against my ears. I was tired. I wanted to be back in bed. I should have gone as a mummy. Preferably in a sarcophagus. At least then I could lie down. It wasn’t even three full days since my surgery. What was I thinking?… Clearly I was not.

“This is stupid!” I hissed.

“You’ll see,” Doug, undeterred, maneuvered his wrapped wheelchair into a corner, shedding more leaves, “People don’t notice trees.”

Oh, I could see already. And more than I wanted to.

“They would notice this one,” I grumbled.

Already Doug’s stick arms and bony torso showed. Someone should have hold him that being a potted tree in fall was doomed to leave him sitting in the nude.

For Sue Vincent’s WritePhoto Challenge

Empty Promises

October 30, 2019Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Current events, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Assumptions, Change, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Injustice, Micro-fiction, Photo prompt, Surprise, Taken for granted, Writing Challenge 45 Comments

He came down to find the kitchen cold. The coffee machine bereft of beans, the range orphaned of the pan that sizzled on it every morning as far back as he could recall. His lunch boxes waited on the table, naked in their transparent emptiness.

He was sure that the vacant orange juice glass was put on them just to spite.

He never believed her that she’d up and leave if he kept ‘forgetting’ her papers. He never thought she’d have anyplace else to go. But there he was. Alone. The servant that had been a fixture for him, gone.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Goose-Sitter

October 28, 2019Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: Flash Fiction, Flying, Geese, Helping out, Kreative Kue, Micro-fiction, Migration, Pecking order, Photo prompt, Writing Challenge 15 Comments

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“Do they really think you’re their mama?”

“Yep.”

She stared at the small flock of geese. There were still goslings, in a way, but they no longer looked like anything but full grown, feathers puffed, beaks out to get ya in the soft parts geese.

“They’re quite tame,” Luke chuckled at her wariness.

“Tell that to the bruise that this one over there left on me the other day.”

Luke’s chuckle turned full throttle laughter. “Miles was just trying to establish a pecking order. He’s fairly low ranking and you could’ve showed him his place. Instead, you freaked and he showed you his. It’s normal goose behavior.”

“Normal for you, perhaps. I’m a human. Not a goose mama.”

Luke patted one of the geese in what Darla swore was just a showing off. “Also, they are a little antsy,” he conceded. “It’s going to be their first real flight.”

Darla nodded, unconvinced. She was already regretting her agreement to take care of any stragglers. Luke was going to fly the flock — or any of the flock who were capable — through the whole migration route. Darla was to help with those who lagged behind or proved too weak. Luke already had two in mind that he believed would end up among them, including, of course, Miles de Munch.

She wasn’t sure how she got roped into agreeing. There was, of course, Luke’s contagious enthusiasm. And his charm.

Darla sighed. She’d bail out if it weren’t for the fact that they were due to leave tomorrow and there was no way Luke would have time to find a substitute goose-sitter.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea,” Luke’s face lit up in a manner very much like the excitement that had led her to agree to shepherd biting geese in the first place. “We’re going on one last practice fly today. Wanna come?”

For Keith’s Kreative Kue 235

Perhaps

October 27, 2019Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Current events, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: Creative writing, Flash Fiction, Graduation, Hard work, Immigration, Job interview, Micro-fiction, Photo prompt, Sacrifice, Sunday Photo Fiction, WritePhoto 14 Comments

Photo prompt: Janet Puddicombe

The morning was overcast but the weatherman promised afternoon sunshine. “A perfect day,” the man in his not-quite-fitting suit gushed, and Lola felt protective. No one better dare mock him!

It didn’t take a doctorate to recognize what he woke in her: Her father, hiding repeated humiliations, readying to leave for yet another job interview that he already knew would likely go to someone younger and better educated, with no giveaway accent and a lighter complexion.

“Go get’em, Dad,” she’d tell him as he’d fuss over the knot of his tie or the papers in his attache.

“Thank you, Querida,” he’d say as he buttoned the jacket for his only suit, the one that didn’t fit him as it should. Or perhaps never had. He’d certainly gotten it off the rack.

She’d tried to convince him to get one tailor-made.

“I’m no big boss, Querida,” he’d always shrug her off. “Just a man looking for a job. Perhaps one day, Lola, when you’re a doctor, for your graduation, I’ll buy me one.”

She eyed his favorite flowers. Bought as she had those days, to cheer him up.

“Perhaps,” she whispered, buttoning her cape, “you’d have gotten that suit. Today, Dad.”

For the Sunday Photo Fiction challenge