Tomorrow’s Memory

December 19, 2018December 19, 2018Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Ancestors, First Nations, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Heritage, History, Identity, Memory, Micro-fiction, Writing Challenge, Writing prompt 24 Comments

Photo: Adam Ickes

“They do not remember who they are.”

The old man’s voice was somber without judgment. A skill born of patience shaped by the combined weights of history and time.

“It is why I brought them here.”

The elder regarded his visitor. His dark eyes pools of wisdom deeper than the lines upon his skin.

A silence stretched.

“They will not find it in this place,” Sorrowful Skies said finally.

Disappointment filled the woman’s face.

“They will sleep in the lodge tonight,” he added. “Tomorrow, they will walk like their ancestors. In bare feet on breathing land. Then they will remember.”

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Netted

December 12, 2018December 12, 2018Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Caving in, Creative writing, Creativity, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, imagination, Micro-fiction, Persuasive, Space, Writing prompt 34 Comments

Photo Copyright –Douglas M. MacIlroy

“Looks like a tennis ball on steroids,” Linda squinted at the gray blob.

Ethan rolled his eyes and turned the screen so it faced him again. “Definitely not a tennis ball.”

He shouldn’t have caved and showed her. Not that he ever did manage to withstand her pleading. Linda’s persistence could persuade a zebra to do away with its stripes.

“A cement globe?” She pressed.

Ethan shook his head.

“Am I at least getting warmer? Oh! Is it a post-global-warming thing?”

He sighed. It was hopeless. Might as well give it up.

“It’s Pluto, barely netted by the Sun.”

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Trestle Wrestle

December 5, 2018Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Danger, Fight, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Last resort, Micro-fiction, Photo Fiction, Train tracks, Writing Challenge, Writing prompt 35 Comments

rr-tracks-at-harpers-ferryc - Dawn M. Miller

Photo Prompt: Dawn M. Miller

“Stop it!”

Harry’s voice ricocheted off the cliffs. He could feel reverberations from his running traveling through the wooden trestles underneath his feet. Other thuds shook the bridge as well.

The figures didn’t even pause. Gordon swiped a leg under Thomas and the larger man went to the rails but grabbed hold of Gordon’s clothing. They rolled and the men would’ve tumbled off the tracks if it weren’t for Gordon’s belt catching on a spike.

Harry bent mid-stride to grab a stout stick.

It seemed he’d have to knock the two unconscious to stop them from killing each other.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Aladdin’s Ally

November 28, 2018Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Antiques, Collector, Creative writing, Fantasy, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Micro-fiction, Wishful Thinking, Writing prompt, You never know 33 Comments

PHOTO PROMPT © Nick Allen

He didn’t find it yet, but failure was just motivation to keep trying.

People said playing the lottery was folly. Yet some people won that … and laughed all the way to the bank.

He wasn’t going to let those of little faith dissuade him.

Sure, let them think he was into antique oil and kerosene containers. It kept badgering to a minimum and lent him some credibility in scouting flee markets.

No one needs to know that what he’s really after, is an authentic genie lamp.

He’ll find it, and laugh all the way to the bank.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Outdoor Sunday

November 21, 2018Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Creative writing, Family, Finding peace, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Micro-fiction, Nature, Siblings, Tolerance, Weekend 21 Comments

Photo prompt: © Dale Rogerson

“This is perfect,” Juliette leaned back onto her elbows and let the sound wash over her.

“Uhhumm…” Doug scraped mud off his pantleg. His fingers yearned for his phone but he had almost no battery left. He wondered for the hundredth time how long before they returned to the car.

Juliette smiled. She knew Doug found nature torturous. The quiet bored him. He disliked pebbles, creepy-crawlers, wind, and grass-stains.

She also knew her brother tolerated their periodical “Outdoor Sunday” just because he loved her … And because he understood better than anyone how much she’d lost when floods took the homestead.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Relative Safety

November 14, 2018Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Creative writing, Disabilities, Dystopia, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Micro-fiction, parenting, Protection, Refugees, Writing Challenge 29 Comments

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

“Should be safe to rest here,” Ron lowered Percy’s carrier. The straps left red gouges on his shoulders. The boy was too big to be carried but we had to leave the wheelchair behind.

Ron rolled his neck, glanced at the underpass’s puddle, and reached for the tablets. “I’ll purify some water.”

“Will they find us, Mama?” Percy put words to my heartache. He’d endured silently through miles of jarring terrain.

“We’ve been careful,” I looked into his worried eyes as I massaged the contracted limbs. “Also, new laws or not, we won’t let you be taken by Leave-Only-Abled-Children raids.”

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Good Enough

November 7, 2018Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Memoriam, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Carving, Creative writing, Creativity, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Grief, Memoriam, Micro-fiction, Short Story, Siblings 28 Comments

PHOTO PROMPT © J.S. Brand

“Do you really think you can do it?”

I nodded into my coffee but my heart fluttered an I-don’t-know.

“You’ll ruin the whole thing.” Stacey stuffed the last bite of bagel in her mouth and grabbed her bag, leaving me the clean up. How symbolic.

I rinsed the pot and the grounds swirled like time into the sink.

My eyes gazed out the window. We hadn’t touched Dad’s stuff. The almost-finished totem. His tools.

“You’re good at this,” he’d once said.

His praise had sustained me, but was I good enough to complete the carving that now he never would?

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

She Checks, Mate.

October 31, 2018Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Speech Language Pathology, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Abilities, Autism, Communication, competition, Creative writing, Disabilities, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Micro-fiction, Short Story, Siblings 24 Comments

PHOTO PROMPT © Jeff Arnold

Matt tapped his lip and danced his foot but I knew it had nothing to do with planning his next move.

“Is your mom home?” he grumbled.

“Yep.”

“So?”

“She’s not going anyplace,” I answered.

“Not like she understands any of this.” Matt was too proud to admit that her presence affected his concentration.

“Tammy’s staying.”

He scowled but must’ve heard the edge in my voice, and dropped it.

No one messed with my little sister. Nonverbal doesn’t mean stupid. Also, Tammy was memorizing all his moves. She’d show me, and next time Matt and I play, I’d win.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Sail Away

October 24, 2018October 24, 2018Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Grief, History, imagination, Micro-fiction, NYC Custom House, Realizations, Short Story 29 Comments

It was taking so long.

His uncle had instructed him to not leave the hall till he returned. He knew better than to defy the order.

He circled the room and looked at the paintings. He imagined conversations among sailors on the merchant ships, between soldiers on the frigates. He polished the marble counter with his sleeve. When he tired, he sat against a lamppost and pretended it was a smokestack.

The hall echoed emptiness.

He was getting cold. He was growing hungry. He needed to pee.

Only when night fell did he finally cry.

His uncle had sailed away.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers