Dismissed

September 11, 2024Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Leaving, Left behind, Micro Fiction, Moving on, Now what, Photo Fiction 29 Comments

“All done?” Miriam poked her head into the room.

Jeremiah nodded, thumbs digging into the small of his back.

“And right on time, too!” Miriam’s pointed at the window. “Dad’s here with the van.”

“I’m off, then,” Jeremiah stated. He did his part. It was bad enough seeing his whole life folded into boxes. He didn’t need to see it all taken away.

He brushed the hair off his sweaty forehead and turned to leave.

“Forgot your phone!” Miriam exclaimed.

Jeremiah shook his head. “It’s part of this. And …” he breathed, “I won’t need it where I’m going.”

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictoneers

Photo prompt: David Stewart

Fence

October 13, 2023Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Current events, Muse and Flow, Poetry, Reflections, Trauma and Development, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Current events, Distrust, Division, Etiology, Friday Fictioneers, Hate, NonFiction, Now what, Poetry, Separation 20 Comments

They built their house on the other side of the fence.

The far end of the bay.

To stay away.

Others aren’t like us, they’d say.

We’re better.

People don’t understand that

They’re nothing like us.

They built their house on the other side

Of the fence.

Taught their kids to hate

The Others

For not being

Like them.

For being

Less worthy.

Less than.

They build their house on the other side of

The fence.

The town gawked

First

Then shrugged

Then came to believe

That indeed

They were different,

Even dangerous

On the other side of

The fence.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

The Farthest Ride

September 4, 2020September 4, 2020Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Things Kids Say, Writing Tags: Beach, Big sister, Brothers, CCC, Flash Fiction, Micro-fiction, Now what, Oh oh, On a dare, Siblings, Trouble, Wind Turbines 15 Comments

They were going to make a race for it.

Sherry frowned.

Why did everything have to be a race with them?

She knew there was naught a thing she could do to dissuade them. To the contrary: if she tried to, they were almost certain to up the ante, in bravado and a bit of spite.

Older sisters were never listened to. Even if they were ran to later with the scrapes and bruises and secrets that had to be kept from parents and the like.

Lots more than scrapes and bruises at risk here, though.

“I’m going to ride,” Thomas bragged. The paddle-board he’d rescued from the trash was his pride and joy. Pitiful in looks, with masking tape to hold the bits together, but serviceable. For ripples. Not for this.

“Nah, I swim,” Teddy said. “I’ll reach the farthest wind turbine before you get half-way to the first!”

For Crispina’s Crimson’s Creative Challenge