The Way Down

April 26, 2025Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Bridge, Depression, Finding a way, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Intergenerational Trauma, Loss, Micro Fiction, Mist 27 Comments

“The way down is longer way than it seems.”

Mama’s words echoed in her head, soft warnings or an encouragement, she never really knew. Never did ask.

Not even after.

Because she understood.

Every time the fog rolled around.

The wonder. The urge. The pull of the opaque. The damp air on her face, her heart, her bangs.

It was, perhaps, something in their blood that called their soul to enter mist.

And yet.

Torso pressed against the bridge, her city’s pulse drowning all sound,

She did not dare repeat what Mama had done.

Abandon.

Her daughter. Her young son.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt © Roger Bultot

Until The Rain

May 8, 2024Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Canopy, Coming to terms, Finding peace, Friday Fictioneers, Grief, Loss, Making do, Photo prompt, Siblings 27 Comments

“It will only last till fall.”

“In all probability,” Tad smiled, “so would I.”

Seth craned his neck toward the canopy, so tears stream into his hair and not onto his cheeks, where Tad may see them.

Gone was the sturdy tarp of their childhood gazebo. Stripped away by time, and the remains plucked off by winter’s hurricane.

“The trees protect it still,” Tad offered gently. “The roof we have no longer hides the sky.”

Until the rain, Seth thought, but nodded. The light was soft. Perhaps the inevitable will be, too.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt © Lisa Fox

A Slivered Thing

September 4, 2023Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Poetry, Reflections, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: Childhood Adversity, Creative writing, Dreams, dVerse, Loss, Poetry, Quadrille, Sliver, Trauma 27 Comments

(Photo: Beth Hope on Unsplash)

She became an essence.

A sliver

Of her dreams.

Nothing near the child

She’d been, who played

A fairy’s magic theme,

With arms a fledgling’s

Widespread

Wings.

Life tossed her

From the nest.

Unhinged.

She a feather now.

A mere sliver

Of a being.

For the dVerse Quadrille challenge of: Sliver

New Order

June 6, 2023Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Current events, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Cautionary tale, Current affairs, Dystopia, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Loss, Micro Fiction, Photo Fiction, Propaganda 21 Comments

She stood at the back and tried to make herself as small as possible.

Not easy, with her stature and attire.

Still, she hoped the shadows would afford some obscurity. Bad enough to be made to attend and be tallied. It would be worse to be noticed. To be named.

The speakers roared. The bands played deafening propaganda.

She stood. She clapped. She swayed as necessary.

She stayed alert. Her life depended on it.

But in a corner of her mind, she was a child still, pumping feet toward a blue sky. Still free. To believe. To think. To be.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt © Ted Strutz

To The Naga’s Protection

April 22, 2023April 23, 2023Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Things Kids Say, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Difficult decisions, Family, Friday Fictioneers, grandparents, Gratitude, Loss, love, New Beginnings, Thailand 26 Comments

“The Naga will protect you, Laang Chaai.”

“Yes, Yaai,” the boy swallowed tears and nodded to his grandmother. Even at his tender age he knew that his Yaai’s love would not be enough. Her body bent over like a broken bamboo, the shape of rice-paddy work even with no paddy to bend over.

The wrinkled hand touched boy’s head, devastated to give up her laang chaai. His mother had died in childbirth, yet she never thought of her grandson as an orphan. Till today.

The monks will raise him now.

“Khawp khun khrap” the boy bowed, palms together over heart.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt: © David Stewart

Glossary:

Naga – semi-divine dragon-serpents in Thai culture which possess supernatural powers and are the patrons of water

Laang Chaai – grandson

Yaai – grandmother

khawp khun khrap – thank you (when said by male)

The Tallest Tears

May 4, 2022Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Current events, Life and love, Memoriam, Muse and Flow, Photography, Reflections, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Growth, Loss, Memoriam, Messenger, Micro-fiction, Rest, Things Kids Say, Visit 40 Comments

(photo: Na’ama Yehuda)

The tallest flowers caught her eye, but it was the withered daffodils that caught her breath and pressed a fist into her heart.

His favorites.

The stalwart sentinels of spring.

Outnumbered now. Outshone. Outdone.

As was he.

After utterly too short a time.

Her throat constricted. A reflex of holding what she’d learned would be a solitary cry.

“Look, Mama!” a child trilled. “The daffodils are tired!”

“Yes, darling,” a woman’s voice returned. “They did excellent work and are resting now, sleeping till next spring.”

Tears slid. It was something he’d say.

She should have known he’d send a messenger.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers.

Thank you, Rochelle, for using my photo for the prompt this week. And, for all who manage loss, especially of those taken too young in all manners of war – may you know that we remember, and we listen, and we will not forget.

Green Grace

March 26, 2022Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: CCC, Deserted, Discovery, Flash Fiction, friends, Greenhouse, Kin, Loss, Micro-fiction, Photo prompt, Professor 18 Comments

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“I didn’t even know where she lived.”

Maya shook her head, agreeing. “Don’t think anyone knew.”

“I did,” Sydney whispered.

Deena and Maya turned to her and stared. Tears made a path through the makeup on Sydney’s cheeks, ruining an hour’s worth of work in front of a mirror.

“Spill …” Deena demanded after Sydney said no more. “You brought us here!”

“Yeah,” Maya echoed, encircling the overgrown garden and weed-filled greenhouse with her arm. Goodness knows the condition of the stone cottage. “How come you know where Rock-For-Heart…” she shrugged apologetically at Deena’s kick. “Sorry, now that she’s, um, gone…where Professor Rockfort lived?”

Everyone gave a wide berth to the gruff professor in musty tweeds and bushy eyebrows. Her snap was prodigious, and her marks were stingy. Why would anyone even want to know where she lived?

“Her name was Grace,” Sydney sniffled. “And she was my great-grand aunt.”

For Crispina’s Crimson’s Creative Challenge

Mama’s Trees

December 29, 2021Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Grief, Helping others, Holiday Season, In memoriam, Loss, Micro-fiction, Siblings, Tribute 52 Comments

“So, we go?”

James nodded. Better than pretending that all was as it had been. Nothing ever will be.

“It’s cold,” Maria held out two scarves. A third was wrapped around her neck.

“So, we go!” Benjamin pulled a hat over his head. “You take the middle, Maria and I will go top and trunk. We’ll trade.”

They’d walked a tree home one year when Mama lost the car. They all had cars now, but she would never drive again.

James reached for the first tree. Glanced at their list of in-need homes.

In Mama’s memory, a Christmas Walk-a-thon.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt: Dale Rogerson

Finding Fido

November 6, 2021Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: CCC, Flash Fiction, hope, Loss, Lost, Micro-fiction, Pets, Photo prompt, Puppy, Taking action, Writing prompt 23 Comments

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“Still nothing,” Sally said as soon as Damian came through the door.

His shoulders sagged. The whole drive home he’d hoped for news. He didn’t dare imagine beyond that, but his arms ached and his cheeks felt cold without the welcome of unabashed wriggles and wet kisses.

And to think he’d never wanted “a beast in the house.” To think he’d been so set against it.

Little did he know that a furball in a giant velvet bow would burrow deeper into his heart than anyone before it. Including, if he was honest, the two-legged.

“I taped more flyers,” Sally filled the silence. “And called the vets … just in case.”

Damian nodded over the tightness in his throat.

“Mary is so sorry …” Sally pressed on. “She didn’t mean to leave the door unlatched.”

“I’ve to go,” Damian grabbed his gun. “I must find Fido before the dark does.”

For Crispina’s Crimson’s Creative Challenge