The Gift

October 3, 2018Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Family, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Micro-fiction, Relationships, Short Story, Social Skills, Writing prompt, Yearning 50 Comments

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

She left him a gift.

She knew he wasn’t likely to acknowledge it. It was possible he wouldn’t know or care where it had come from. It didn’t matter. Or perhaps it did – and terribly – but she could do nothing to change it. Where others sought connection and cultivated relationships, her father’s world revolved around rocks, shells, sticks, pebbles, stones. Those he caressed, inspected, studied, catalogued.

She’d learned to expect nothing. It was the only way to lessen heartbreak.

She left the coral piece on the table. Perhaps if he kept it, it would be as if he saw her.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

The Interview

September 30, 2018October 1, 2018Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: Asylum, Broadmoor, Elderly, empathy, Flash Fiction, Interview, Life Lessons, Micro-fiction, Short Story, Trauma, Writing prompt Leave a comment

The Broadmoor in Crowthorne Berkshire "opened in 1863 as the first building in England built as an asylum for the criminally insane." Today it houses dangerous criminals including the Yorkshire Ripper and the Suffolk Strangler. There is now talk of turning this building into a luxury hotel.

“How did I get here? Too many times of the world painting life in bleak pain and despair,” her wrinkled hand passed over a face lined with history and sorrow.

I looked down at my own hands, fingers marked with blots of ink. I never managed to learn how to hold writing implements far enough from the tip.

Mrs. Glendale leaned forward and her hand touched my knee. The attendant didn’t flinch but I held my breath and wondered, again, what made me choose the asylum for the criminally insane for my project.

“Whatever happens, child,” she whispered, “remember it is best for your heart to brandish hope, not revenge.”

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt

Horse Spirit

September 29, 2018September 29, 2018Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: Archeology, art, Flash Fiction, History, Micro-fiction, Paleolithic, Portugal, Short Story, What Pegman Saw, Writing, Writing prompt 27 Comments

Photo: Palaeolithic art at Foz Côa’s Archaeological Park, Portugal

“Why do you hit the rock with sharpened stones?”

Golin quaked under The Elder’s frown. It was forbidden to harm The Rocks That Shelter. The big stones protected them from biting teeth and snarling maws. They stopped the wind. They held back scorching sun. They reflected heat from fires.

And let flames paint shadows, Golin thought.

“He will drive away Horse Spirit and we will starve,” Morsen scowled predictably.

“Let him answer,” The Elder said.

Morsen seethed. The old man always favored Golin.

“The Rocks That Shelter do not anger when the fire lives in them,” Golin pointed at the dancing reflection on the wall.

“He makes no sense,” Morsen pouted. A few others nodded but The Elder’s stony gaze did not leave Golin’s face.

“They draw the fire near,” Golin stressed. Couldn’t they see? “Perhaps The Rocks That Shelter will welcome Horse Spirit and call it here.”

For What Pegman Saw: Douro, Portugal

The Service

September 28, 2018September 28, 2018Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Eulogy, Family, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Loss, Memorial service, Micro-fiction, Short Story, Speaking up, Truth, Writing prompt 42 Comments

PHOTO PROMPT © Yvette Prior

All was set for the service.

Programs lounged on chairs in the next room. The adequately melancholy music played. Discrete tissue boxes rested at either end of the first row.

She waited as heels clicked on marble and black fabrics swished and the somber faces of acquaintances, rearranged for the occasion, nodded at her. She endured the hugs and shoulder pats and too-long handshakes. She breathed through the words.

The room quieted.

She rose and stared at the ornate urn on the dais before turning to face the living.

“You should know,” she began, “that Dad was not a good man.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Worse Off Than A Monk

September 22, 2018September 22, 2018Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: Adolescents, Basque region, Decisions, empathy, Family, Flash Fiction, Loss, Micro-fiction, Off The Grid, Short Story, Teenagers, What Pegman Saw, Writing prompt 15 Comments

Photo: Mapio.net; Goizueta, Navarre

“I am not going!”

They cannot send him to that miserable hut where there’s no electricity, no running water, creepy crawlies, and no internet. Even monks have internet. He was going to be worse off than a monk!

His father sighed. “Aitona Antton needs help and Osaba Alesander is still recovering from his motorcycle accident.”

“So I need to lose a leg to get out of this?” Danel grumbled.

His father’s sharp inhale told him he’d gone too far.

He shrugged apology. He was in enough trouble. Ditching school, hanging out “with the wrong crowd.” It was exile or jail.

“He’s your great-grandfather,” his father sounded tired, and not just from spending nights at Uncle Alesander’s bedside. “You used to love visiting him.”

“Before Birramona died …” Danel stopped. The remote homestead was awfully quiet without his great-grandmother. How much more so for Aitona-handia?

He sighed. “At least I like goat-cheese.”

For What Pegman Saw

(Basque glossary – Aitona: Grandfather; Aitona-handia: Great grandfather; Birramona: Great grandmother; Osaba: Uncle)

A Taste of Heights

September 21, 2018September 21, 2018Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Photography, Reflections, Things Kids Say, Writing Tags: Amusement Park, Flash Fiction, Micro-fiction, Photography, Siblings, Spinning, To each their own, Writing, Writing prompt 4 Comments

Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein

“I can almost touch the moon!” she swung her arms in exuberance as the ride reached its apex and the spinning accelerated.

“I can almost touch last week’s dinner,” her sister croaked a white-knuckled response.

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Taste, 35 words (original prompt)

Also see Sammi’s own updated take on the prompt

In Case Of Rain

September 19, 2018Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Abuse of power, Anniversary, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Illness, Micro-fiction, Relationships, Short Story, Writing, Writing prompt 24 Comments

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

It was their anniversary, and once again he was late.

The office manager held him up for nonsense that could’ve easily waited for tomorrow. Mr. Billings often did so when Gary was in a rush. It was a cruel little game he played, knowing that with previous ‘insubordination’ records in his file, Gary could not afford even the slightest reprimand. No job, no health insurance.

His phone buzzed as he rushed to the restaurant. A text.

“Lost?”

Mary. Gary’s heart sank. He ran faster. His phone vibrated again.

“I’m under a blue umbrella. You know, in case of rain.”

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

It’ll Do

September 16, 2018Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: 3LineTales, Flash Fiction, Home, hope, Micro-fiction, New Beginnings, Persevere, Poetry, Resourcefulness, Shelter, Writing, Writing prompt Leave a comment

Photo: Nathan Wright via Unsplash

Never mind the mildew and dirt, the echoes in corridors of sad stories they knew.

There’ll be roof over heads and a shelter for those who lost all yet pulled through.

We will clean it all up. Make a home for these kids. It’ll do.

For Three Line Tales, Week 137

Home View

September 15, 2018September 17, 2018Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: Africa, Flash Fiction, Ghana, Home, International Space Station, Micro-fiction, Satelite photos, saying goodbye, What Pegman Saw, Writing prompt 23 Comments

He huddled at the cupola and waited.

Sirens blared and klaxon warnings bleated in time with the flash of red strobe lights and a monotone woman’s voice repeating: “Evacuate! Evacuate!”

He shook his head at the cluelessness of programmers. Who chose this particular word for the code-red recordings?

Evacuate to where?

The wall behind him warped and heaved, and it was as if the very apparatus was gasping for air. He slowed his own breath and tuned out the scream of bending metal and the meaning of the accelerated frequency of the voice commands.

He glued his eyes to the view. Finally.

His finger traced the line of green against blue and traveled inland to the approximate spec that was Bamboi.

Was anyone home looking up? They’d been so proud. The first of their own at the space-station, and … for at least another moment, the last astronaut alive.

For the What Pegman Saw Challenge: Bamboi, Ghana

The One Thing

September 12, 2018September 12, 2018Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: Dysfunctional families, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Inheritance, Micro-fiction, rivalry, Secrets, Short Story, Siblings, Writing prompt 23 Comments

“It’s the one thing I want.”

His siblings’ squabbling over their late mother’s items woke memories he preferred to not revisit. He wondered if not leaving a will was her way to continue their jockeying for her perceived affections even after she was gone.

Linda fixed her suspicious gaze on him. “Why?”

He shrugged to feign indifference. “I find the carvings interesting, and,” he pointed at his black clothing, “it’s kind of Goth.”

He wasn’t going to tell them about the hidden compartments. Or their contents. Grandpa had shown him. “Black sheep need help, Son. In case of hard times.”

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers